liPfPil'lijiill 

|iiil!-l'lii!ii;!|il|:r:i;:viK|;;^^ 

i.'iiii^;l|iSll|'i^|!l:i:i 

:|i|^!:1||li^fii:i'::|il;ii;;^^ 

LIBRARY  OF   THE  THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

BS  2407  .E883  1897 

Essays  concerning  Jesus  and 
His  times 


/> 


OJi 


OCT  17  l'Ji4 


ESSAYS 


Concerning  Jesus  and  His  Times 


BE:NG  pages  S-IS  reprinted  EROM  volumes  IV  AND 

V,  PAGES  401-536  OE  VOLUME  VI,  AND  PAGES 

417-482  OP  VOLUME  VITI  OF  THE 

BIBLICAL   WORLD 


lPubU9be&  tot 
lEbc  Bmerican  llnstttute  of  SacrcO  Xiteraturc 

BY 

Cbc  'aniversit^  of  Cblcago  press 

1897 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 

FACE 

I   Map  of  Palestine  -------  3 

II   Studies  in  Palestinian  Cxeugraph\-,  Rev.  Professor  J.   S. 

Rigors,  D.D.  -------  5 

PART  II. 

PAGE 

III  The  Foreshadowingsof  the  Christ  in  the  Old  Testament, 

President  William  R.  Harper,  D.D.     -  -  -  -      401 

IV  The  Times  of   Christ,  Rev.  Professor  H.   M.  Scott,  D.D.     413 
V  The  Sources  of  the  Life  of   Christ,    Professor  Ernest  D. 

Burton -  -  -      424 

VI   The    Birth   and    Childhood   of    Jesus,   Rev.    Professor  A. 

C.  Zen  OS,  D.D.  - 433 

VII   The  Ministry  of   Christ,   Professor   JVm.   Arnold  Stevens, 

D.D.     - 444 

VIII  The  Teaching  of  Christ  in  the  Gospels  of  Matthew,  Mark, 
and  Luke,  Rei'.   Professor  Alexander  Balmain  Bruce, 
D.D.     ---------         455 

IX  The  Teaching  of  Christ  in  the  (lospel  of  John,  Rev.  Pro- 
fessor Marcus  Dods,  D.D.  -  -  -  -  -     467 

X  Jesus   as    a    Preacher,    Professor    William    C.    Wilkinson, 

D.D.  -  -         - 476 

XI   Christ  in  Art,  /v'ev.  Professor  Rush  Rhees         -  -  -     49° 

XII   Christ  in  Poetry.  Rev.  Frank  W.  Gunsaulus.  D.D.        -  504 

XIII  The  Song  of  Mary  -  -  -  -  -  -  -      5 '6 

XIV  Christ  in  History,  Principal  A.  M.  Fairbairn,  D.D.      -  518 
XV   Helps  to  the  Study  of  the  Life  of  Christ,  Professor  SI/ a  Her 

Mathetvs        -  -  -  -  -  -  "  "  5^4 

XVI   The   Hall   of   the   Christ   at    Chautauqua,    Bisl/op  J.   H. 

Vincent,  D.D.    -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -53° 


iv  co.y'/vs.yvs 

X\'1I  Svnojjses  of  Iiiiportant  Articles:  Jesus'  Teachiiii^s  al)out 
Himself.  James  Robinson —  The  In<  aination  and  the 
Unity    of     Christ's    Person.     T.     C.     Jithcards    (c.  w . 

VOTAW)  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  534 

PART  III. 

PACE 

XVIII     The    ("hild    Prophecies    of    Isaiah.    W'iUiain    R.    Harper. 

D.D. 41; 

XIX    The  Storv  of  the  Birth,  Professor  Geori^^e  T.  Piirres,  D.J).     423 
XX     The  Home  of  Our    Lord's   Childhood,    Professor  Geo/^e 

Adat/t  Sill i til,  D.D.     -  -  -  -  -  -  -     435 

XXI    levvish  Familv  Life,  /'/''^/<'X<-(^r /^/v/^-.^t" /A  Hit r ton  -  445 

XXII   The  Child  Jesus   in  VMwXxWii.  Professor    William  C.  Wil- 
kinson., D.D.      -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -     45S 

XXIII    Christianitv  and   Children.    Professor    Charles   R.    Hen- 
derson. D.D.  -         -  -  -  -         -         -  473 


TIME    OF    CHRIST 


STUDIES  IN  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY 


By  the   Rev.  Professor  J.  S.  Rig cs,    D.D., 
Aulnun    Theolijsjical  Seminarx'. 


I.       THE    LAND    AS    A    WHOLE. 

OxE  of  the  marked  characteristics  of  our  Bible  is  that  its 
contents  are,  in  large  part,  history  and  biography.  This  fact 
makes  its  scenery  of  deep  and  lasting  interest.  While  the  chief 
purpose  of  all  the  record  is  spiritual,  it  adds  not  a  little  to  the 
vividness  of  the  lesson  to  be  able  to  realize  its  material  setting 
and  estimate  the  force  of  physical  as  well  as  political  environ- 
ment upon  national  or  individual  life.  Paul  \"eronese's  great 
picture  of  "Jesus  in  the  House  of  Levi,"  with  its  group  of  Italian 
faces  and  its  palatial  setting,  may  honor  Christ,  but,  except  in 
the  honor  it  gives  the  Master,  it  is  an  untruthful  representation 
Sober  study  of  history  and  geography  serves  to  check  wrong 
idealizations  and  puts  emphasis  upon  that  which  is  really  worthy 
and  exalted.  It  will  be  our  aim,  then,  in  these  studies,  to  get 
before  us,  as  well  as  we  mav,  the  picture  of  ancient  Palestine  as 
it  was  when  our  blessed  Lord  looked  upon  it.  Geography  pos- 
sesses an  advantage  over  history  in  that  all  that  touches  the 
ph3-sical  side  remains  in  great  measure  unchanged.  A  ride 
today  over  the  hills  of  Judea  reveals  to  us  the  same  general  out- 
line of  hill  and  valley,  lake  and  stream,  plain  and  desert.  Never 
before  could  we  look  more  intelligently  upon  these  in  the  study 
of  that  which  pertains  to  historical  geography,  for  its  problems 
have  had  and  are  still  having  careful  scientific  investigation 
That  we  may  include  in  our  picture  the  results  of  this  work  we 
have  divided  the  studies  as  follows:  (i)  The  land  as  a  whole; 
(2)  Judea;  (3)  Jerusalem;  (4)  Samaria;  (5)  Galilee;  (6)  The 
Jordan  valley  and  the    Perca. 

It  is  well  to  remember  that  much  of  the  depiction  of  the  land 
of  Palestine  given  in  the  Old  Testament  is  heightened  by  con- 
trast with  the  land  of   Egypt.      The   Nile  makes   Egypt,  and   on 

5 


6  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

either  sitlc  of  the  strip  of  sj^reen  that  marks  the  reach  of  the  fer- 
tilizing waters  stretcli  tlie  solemn,  desolate  wastes  of  the  desert. 
Over  against  the  monoton\-  of  this  level  of  life  bounded  on  both 
sides  by  death  stands  the  striking  mountain  scenerv  of  Judea 
and  Galilee,  the  beauties  of  the  Shephelah  and  the  plains,  the 
singular  features  of  the  Jordan  vallev  and  the  highlands  beyond. 
If  we  should  draw  a  rough  outline  maj)  of  the  land  like  this 
below,  it  could  be  naturall}'  divided  into  four  parts,  which  are 


indicateil  bv  the  numbered  lines  drawn  tlown  the  maj).  These 
correspond  in  order  to  the  following  j)h\sical  characteristics: 
(l)  the  maritime  plains;  (J)  tin-  mountain  district;  (3)  the 
Jordan  \alle\- ;  (4)  The  highlands  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Jordan. 

In   order  to   get   a   clear  conception  of   llu-   l.iml   as   a  whole, 


STUDIES'  IN  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY  / 

let  us  look  at  the  general  character  of  each  of  these.  The  out- 
line of  Palestine  is  that  of  a  truncated  triangle  —  the  upper  part 
being  cut  off.  From  its  northern  line  to  its  southern  the  dis- 
tance is  about  140  miles,  and  at  its  widest  part  in  the  south  it  is 
not  more  than  fifty  miles  wide  ;  the  coast  line  is  about  180  miles, 
long. 

Supposing  our  landing  place  Joppa,  we  should  find  ourselves, 
as  we  leave  the  beautiful  orange  groves  at  the  back  of  the  city, 
entering  upon  a  broad  plain,  undulating  in  its  surface  and  at 
such  a  level  above  the  sea  that  its  gently  rolling  hills  reach  a 
height  of  200,  sometimes  of  about  300  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  Mediterranean.  At  the  town  of  Ramleh  in  the  part  of  this 
plain  called  the  plain  of  Sharon  there  is  a  high  tower  standing, 
the  remnant  of  a  crusader  church.  Ascending  this,  one  has  a 
wide  prospect  over  the  whole  plain  from  the  slopes  of  Carmel 
on  the  north  to  the  regions  of  Gaza  on  the  south.  This  long 
reach,  so  significant  in  the  varied  history  of  the  land  as  the  high- 
way of  armies  from  the  south  and  from  the  north,  is  divided  into 
three  parts  —  that  along  the  front  of  Carmel  extending  to  the 
Crocodile  River  ;  the  plain  of  ."^haron,  eight  to  twelve  miles  wide 
and  forty-four  long,  extending  to  a  line  just  below  Ramleh  ;  the 
plain  of  the  Philistines  reaching  on  south  to  the  river  of  Egypt 
There  is  no  more  pleasing  view  in  Palestine,  except  over  the 
plain  of  P^sdraelon.  The  greensward  in  the  springtime  abounds 
in  flowers  and  the  husbandman  is  busy  preparing  its  productive 
soil  for  the  harvest.  Lydda  is  not  far  away  amid  its  olive 
groves.  Many  sites  of  ancient  towns  can  be  pointed  out  toward 
the  north  and  east.  Toward  the  distant  southern  horizon  one 
can  discern  the  region  of  the  Philistine  cities  Gaza,  Gath,  Ash- 
kelon.  Ashdod,  and  Ekron,  of  which  the  site  of  Gath  is  alone 
uncertain.  With  the  view  of  the  distant  mountains  of  Judah  and 
Ephraim  constantlv  before  one,  the  journey  over  this  plain  to 
Jerusalem  makes  a  delightful  introduction  to  the  scenes  of  the 
Holy  Land.  Gradually  the  plain  slopes  upward  as  it  reaches 
inward  from  the  sea  till  it  meets  the  Shephelah  or  low  hills  that 
stand  before  the  mountains  themselves.  Sometimes  this  term 
is  given  to  the  whole  region   between   the   high   mountains  and 


THE  B/PL/CAL    WORLD 


the  sea.  The  wortl  is  translated  "plain"  in  the  Septiiagint.  In 
the  restricted  use  of  the  term  it  marks  those  hills  of  limestone 
which  present,  as  Dawson  says  of  them,  "low  ridges  not  more 
than  about  500  feet  in  height,  with  gentle  slopes  to  the  westward 
and  more  abrupt  escarpments  to  the  east."  They  arc  cut  with 
vallcvs  and  have  played  a  deeply  interesting  [)art  in  the  history 
of  the  land.  The  Rev.  Geo.  A.  Smith  calls  attention  to  the  fact 
that  above  the  valley  of  Ajalon  these  foothills  occuj)y  a  differ- 
ent relative  position  to  the  mountains  near  them,  and  that  the 
name  Shephelah  did  not  j)robablv  extend  above  the  \'allev. 
Below  this  famous  \allcv  the  hills  are,  so  to  speak,  more  inde- 
pendent of  the  mountains.  "Altogether  it  is  a  rough,  happ\'  land, 
with  its  glens  and  moors,  its  mingled  brushwood  and  barle\- 
fields  ;  frecjuentlv  under  cultivation,  but  for  the  most  part  broken 
and  thirst\',  with  few  wells  and  manv  hiding  places  ;  just  the 
home  for  strong  bordermcn  like  Samson,  and  just  the  theater  for 
that  guerrilla  warfare  varied  occasionallv  b}-  pitched  battles, 
which  Israel  and  I'hilistia,  the  Maccabees  and  .Syrians,  and  Sala- 
din  and  Richard  waged  with  each  other." 

Right  before  us  now  in  our  journey  across  the  land  is  that 
mountain  wall  which  extends  with  but  one  break  through  the 
whole  length  of  the  land.  Up  and  up  the  road  mounts,  with  turns 
here  and  there  that  gi\'e  the  tra\eler  \iews  over  all  the  mari- 
time plain  and  far  out  to  sea,  till  we  reach  the  ritlge  which  at  the 
Mount  of  Olives  is  2600  feet  above  the  sea;  on  Newbv  Samwil 
or  Mizpah  2800  feet ;  on  the  ridge  of  Hebron  3000  feet.  These 
limestone  mountains,  which  do  not  always  reveal  their  own  great 
height  since  the  \allevs  are  also  elexated,  are  cut  in  every  tlirec- 
tion  by  water  courses  or  separated  by  broader  sj)aces  which  are 
utilized  for  farming  or  for  oli\e  gro\cs.  The  i)arren  rocks,  with 
their  denuded  siu'faces  exposed  to  the  sun  and  rain,  are  disap- 
pointing indeed.  It  is  hard  to  reali/t.-  when  one  tlrst  sees  them 
that  they  ha\'e  been  the  witnesses  of  some  of  the  most  telling 
events  of  historw  IWit  aniiil  them  stood  Jerusalem,  Bethel, 
•Shechem,  .Samaria,  Nazareth,  ami  it  is  |)leasant  to  think  that 
they  were  once  nujre  attractixe  than  now.  as  the\'  certainU  were 
when  a  respectable  go\'ernment  ga\  e  both  inspiration  and  i)rotec- 


STCD/KS  L\-  P.  1  LEST/XL  I  A'  GEOGRAPHY  9 

tion  to  all  kinds  of  thrift.  They  were  the  strongholds  of  the 
people,  and  have  always  been  spared  much  that  came  to  the  plains 
below.  With  their  rugged  faces  and  varying  phases  Christ  was 
familiar  from  boyhood.  In  places  now  the  scenery  is  wild  and 
forbidding;  again  it  is  softened  and  beautified,  as  the  diligence 
of  the  inhabitants  has  covered  the  rocks  with  olive  groves  or  the 
valleys  with  grain.  When  we  come  to  consider  more  closely  the 
divisions  of  the  country  we  can  stop  to  mark  definitely  some  of 
these  features. 

Standing  upon  the  Mount  of  Olives,  one  can  see,  in  the  dis- 
tance, far  below  him,  the  blue  waters  of  the  Dead  Sea.  As  we 
go  over  the  brow  of  the  mountain  toward  Bethany  we  begin  that 
steep  descent  which  is  to  bring  us  to  the  third  natural  division  of 
the  land --the  Jordan  valley.  The  way  from  Jerusalem  to  Jeri- 
cho, in  this  valley,  is  certainh'  "down."  One  descends  over 
3800  feet  to  the  level  of  the  inland  sea,  and  so  sharp  is  the 
change  that  in  the  x'alley  we  are  in  the  region  of  the  })alm  tree 
and  of  all  tropical  fruits.  The  broad  plain  of  the  Jordan  must 
once  have  been  full  of  beauty,  and  the  river,  insignificant  in  itself 
but  exalted  in  its  associations,  yet  pours  its  turbulent  waters  into 
the  Salt  Sea.  The  cleft  (we  shall  studv  it  later)  down  which  the 
river  comes  from  its  sources  at  Banias  and  Dan  has  its  greatest 
depth  and  width  near  the  head  of  the  Dead  Sea,  but  all  the  way 
up,  beyond  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  it  cuts  the  land  into  two  distinct 
parts  and  in  itself  forms  a  notable  feature  of  Palestine.  The 
modern  name  for  this  lower,  broader  part  of  this  cleft  is  "The 
Ghor."  It  is  rich  in  biblical  associations  and  well  deserves  sep- 
arate studv. 

"On  the  other  side  of  Jordan"  the  mountains  again  go  up  to 
heights  which   exceed   those  in   western    Palestine  and   the   pla- 


Mountain  of  Moab 


Plain  of  Sharon 


31;'^  Division       4tii  Division 


10 


THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 


tcaus  of  the  northern  section  of  eastern  Palestine  are  marked  for 
tiicir  fertility.  Tiie  scheme  on  the  j)receding  page,  taken  froiii 
a  geological  studv  of  the  land  w  ill  gi\e  some  idea  of  the  wav 
over  which  we  have  come. 

If  one  looks  at  this  central    ridge  as  it  runs    north  and  south 
throusrh  the  land,  it  will  ha\e  this  o;eneral  outline: 

juJcA  Samaria 


Thi.s  outline  trive.s  tlie  ridge  to  tlic  l)ci,'iniiinL'  <it  tlie  mountains  of  upper  Galilee. 


On  this  high  level  took  place  most  of  the  scenes  of  the 
gospels.  It  is  the  region  of  the  most  eventful  facts  of  our 
sacred  historw  This  mountain  line  is  broken  onl\-  1)\-  the  plain 
of  Esdraelon  —  a  beautiful  tract  in  lower  Cialilee.  We  shall 
notice  its  ])osition  and  worth  when  we  studv  (lalilee.  .Several 
things  are  of  interest  regarding  this  singular  land  which  is  thus 
di\'idcd.      Let  mc  brieflx'  call  attention  to  one  or  two  : 

I.  Its  com[)arative  isolation.  The  long  coast  line  below 
Carmel  has  no  natural  harbor.  .As  has  been  said,  "the  land  seems 
to  say  to  the  sea,  I  have  no  need  of  thee."  What  harbors  have 
been  attempted  ha\e  been  all  destro\ed.  It  is  no  comfortal^le 
matter  to  land  todav  at  Jopj)a  unless  the  sea  is  very  smooth. 
( )n  the  south  stretches  the  great  desert  which  reaches  to  the 
bountlar\-  of  l-".gvpt.  I'"orced  marches  across  this  hmught  armies 
to  an  ojjen  door  to  the  land  on  the  south,  and  this  has 
been  one  of  the  chief  cntranci's,  but  the  desert  had  to  be  crossed. 
()n  the  east  is  the  great  .S\rian  desert,  which  is  an  effective  bar- 
rier. \\  hile  the  pl.iin  of  j-.sdraeloii  has  opeued  a  high\\a\-  con- 
necting with  the  road  to  Damascus,  \et  the  mountains  rising  on 
either  side  from  the  j)lain  ha\'e  bi-c-n  the  l)arriers  again.  The 
long  range  of  limestone  hills  has  not  al\\a\s  been  Iree  trom 
trouble,  vet  thi>  has  ofteiu  r  come  from  tiu-  ])eoj)le  within  its 
borders  than  fr(»m  outsiilers.      Another  matter  ol  interest  is: 

II.  ilu-    \ariet\    of  scenery   and    climate  —  mountain.    j)lain. 


STLDIES  IX  PALEST7NIAX  GEOGRAPHY  II 

valley,  gorge,  desert,  river,  torrent,  lake,  sea, —  everv  varietv  of 
phvsical  configuration  is  here.  From  the  heights  of  Judea  one 
can  see  the  snowy  summits  of  Hermon,  on  whose  sides  are  found 
the  phenomena  of  an  arctic  clime.  Within  sight  in  another  direc- 
tion is  the  tropical  vallev  of  the  Jordan.  Jerusalem  itself  is  no 
stranger  to  snow  storms,  and  vet  gathers  from  its  hill  slopes 
the  fig,  oli\e.  and  ])omegranate.  Indeed,  within  the  time  of  a 
single  iournev  through  the  land  one  may  have  manv  of  the 
features  of  a  tropical,  temperate,  or  arctic  clime.  How  much 
this  varietv  has  added  to  the  beautv  and  power  of  the  Scriptures 
we  all  know.  Tt  has  made  it,  e\'en  on  the  side  of  its  phvsical 
environment,  a  book  for  the  world. 

II.       JUDEA. 

Passing  from  a  \-iew  of  the  land  as  a  whole  to  the  considera- 
tion of  its  parts,  no  more  convenient  division  of  western  Pales- 
tine offers  itself  for  our  jnirpose  than  that  found  in  the  New 
Testament,  viz.,  Judea,  .Samaria,  and  Galilee.  The  line  of  divi- 
sion is,  indeed,  more  than  geographical,  and  for  that  reason  we 
shall  be  called  to  look  for  a  moment  at  the  relation  of  people 
and  einironment  —  the  most  interesting  of  all  relationships  in 
geographical  studw  Let  us  begin  with  Judea.  This  name  by 
which  we  know  the  southern  portion  of  the  land  has  not  always 
designated  the  same  extent  of  territor^y.  It  has  sometimes 
been  the  name  of  the  whole  land,  including  apjjarently  parts 
beyond  the  Jordan  (see  Josephus,  Ant.,  XII,  4:11);  or  again  in 
a  restricted  sense  it  marks  the  southern  portion  of  the  mountain 
ridge  below  Samaria ;  or  again  it  denotes  the  tract  extending 
from  the  Mediterranean  to  the  Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea,  and 
from  a  line  on  the  north  passing  just  above  Antipatris  and 
deflecting  northward  near  its  western  limit,  to  the  mountain 
ridge  below  Beersheba.  Its  general  outline  in  the  time  of  Christ 
appears  in  the  outline  map  on  the  next  page. 

It  had  an  area  of  2000  square  miles,  if  we  include  the  plain  ; 
without  this  and  the  .Shephelah.  both  of  which  in  the  time  of  the 
independence  of  the  Jews  were  often  not  included,  an  area  of 
about  1350  square   miles.      It  is  upon  the  central  ridge —  in  the 


12 


THE  BiniJCAL    WORLD 


hill  coiinti)-  —  that  all  the  great  ex'ents  of  both  the  Old  ami  Now 
Testament  history  took  place.  This  is  realK-  the  Jiulca  of  our 
sacred  narrative  ;  hence  in  our  studv  we  shall  look  at  that  tract 
nearly  six't\'  miles  long  from  its  northern  boundary  to  Beersheba 


and  from  fourteen  to  se\'enteen  miles  witle.  This  portion  can  he 
naturally  di\ided  into  the  hill  country,  the  desert,  and  the  south 
countrw  Imagine  Nourself  now  upon  the  tower  of  the  Mos(|ue 
upon  the  height  of  Newhs'  Samuil  I  Mi/]iah)  a  few  miles  north- 
west of  Jerusalem.  As  a  great  j)icture  the  land  of  Judea  reaches 
out  in  all  directions  below  you.  On  the  right,  a>  \(»u  look 
toward  till-  south,  are  the  jagged  gorges  and  steep  jiasst-s  which 
leatl  down  to  tlu-  Sln-phciah  and  the  jilain.  Hexond  the  low  hills 
is  the  plain  with  all  its  fciiilitx-  reaching  to  the  sea,  whose  coast 
line  is  visible    nearlx    t^  (    iiinel.      South  of   \oti   aie   the   barren 


STUDIES  IN  PALESTIXIAN  GEOGRAPHY  I  3 

monotonous  limestone  ridges  of  the  land  itself  rising  one  behind 
the  other  to  the  highest  line  near  Hebron.  Broad  valleys  lie 
between  these  which  are  as  featureless  as  the  mountains  them- 
selves. The  scenery  has  little  to  commend  it.  One  wonders 
how  Judah  ever  found  an  adequate  habitation  among  these 
inhospitable  rocks.  In  these  stony  valleys,  however,  some  grain 
was  raised,  and  we  have  only  to  go  down  to  Bethlehem  to  see 
how  the  hillsides  were  utilized.  But,  at  best,  compared  with 
the  lands  we  know,  it  is  a  weary  land.  Therein  lies  part  of  the 
secret  of  the  history  of  its  people.  Over  to  our  left  lies  Jeru- 
salem and  the  Mount  of  Olives  ;  on  beyond  in  nearly  the  same 
direction  lie  the  wastes  of  the  desert,  while  all  along  the  line  of 
our  eastern  outlook  runs  the  deep  cleft  of  the  Jordan  and  the 
mountains  on  the  other  side.  The  country  itself  is  capable  of 
strong  defense  and  calculated  to  develop  the  sturdiest  character 
in  those  who  must  defend  it.  Such  is  the  view  which  may  be 
had,  from  more  than  one  summit,  of  the  characteristic  features 
of  Judea.  Its  people  have  been  a  pastoral  rather  than  an  agri- 
cultural people  except  as  thev  have  devoted  themselves  to  the 
culture  of  the  vine.  Across  the  broken  tract  extending  ten 
miles  north  from  Jerusalem  were  the  fortresses  which  once  pro- 
tected the  northern  frontier.  These  were  placed  so  as  to  cover 
the  roads  leading  up  from  the  Jordan,  down  from  the  north,  and 
up  from  the  passes  on  the  western  side  —  Michmash,  Geba, 
Ramah,  Adasa,  and  Gibeon.  Each  name  suggests  memorable 
events  of  the  days  of  Judah,  or  of  the  Maccabees.  The  road 
from  Jerusalem  to  Hebron  keeps  well  up  on  the  center  of  the 
ridge  and  presents  only  here  and  there  any  variation  from  that 
which  meets  us  in  the  north.  Among  these  "  variations  here 
and  there"  we  must  include  Bethlehem  and  Hebron.  The  trav- 
eler turns  from  the  main  road  about  six  miles  from  Jerusalem 
to  enter  the  former  city,  which  lies  upon  a  rocky  promontorv 
extending  toward  the  southeast.  It  is  not  difficult  to  imagine 
the  feelings  with  which  one  comes  to  that  spot  which,  traditional 
though  it  be,  may  well  be  the  real  place  of  our  Lord's  birth.  It 
is  not  in  accord  with  our  purpose  to  stop  for  any  description  of 
the  buildings  which  cover  it,  or  of  the  city  in  which  it  is.     When 


14  THE  HIBLICAL   WORLD 

one  comes  to  the  actual  s[)ot,  he  wishes  the  trumpery  of  the 
priests  out  of  the  wav  that  he  might  see  the  place  in  its  natixe 
simi^licitv.  l)ut  there  it  is  before  you.  Justin  Martvr  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  second  centurv  bears  witness  to  it,  and  it  is  one  of  the 
few  spots  upon  which  different  traditions  converge.  Once  one 
could  step  out  from  it  upon  the  brow  of  a  hill  that  overlooks  a 
beautiful  \allev  and  wide  fields  bevond.  Here  one  may  see  what 
was  perhaps  evident  in  man)-  parts  of  the  land.  At  the  bottom 
of  the  valley  are  grain  fields  and  olive  trees  with  their  welcome 
shade.  Shepherds  arc  upon  the  distant  hill  slopes,  while  all  up 
the  sides  of  the  xallcv  itself  are  the  terraces  upon  wiiich  olive 
trees  are  planted.  The  scene  —  so  peaceful  and  thrifts-  —  is  in 
striking  contrast  to  the  desolate  hillsides  all  around.  Bethle- 
hem is  an  attractive  spot,  both  for  its  sacred  associations  and  for 
its  j)icturc  of  thrift. 

The  ai)[:)roach  to  Hebron  gives  the  traveler  some  idea  of  the 
manner  and  value  of  the  ancient  \inc\ards.  For  a  long  way 
before  reaching  the  city  itself  one  rides  past  these  \ineyards  in  the 
gently  sloping  valleys  or  on  the  terraces  of  the  mountain  sides. 
Here,  nearly  3000  feet  above  the  sea,  the  grapes  are  brought  to 
perfection  by  the  soft  autumn  mists.  Nature  all  about  is  beautiful. 
Hebron  itself,  with  its  dirtv,  superstitious,  fanatical  Mohammedan 
jjopulation,  is  the  only  blot  upon  the  scene.  The  (juestion  has 
once  and  again  been  asked,  Was  ancient  Judea  no  more  fertile 
than  it  api)ears  today  ?  Hebron  gives  answer  for  all  those  regions 
where  the  vine  could  he  nurtured  and  where  water  and  soil  would 
give  any  chance  for  tillage.  "On  the  whole  plateau  the  only 
gleams  of  water  are  the  jjools  of  Gibeon,  Jerusalem,  Bethlehem, 
and  Hrhroii,  and  troni  Bethel  to  Beershcba  there  are  not  even  in 
its  springtime  more  than  six  or  seven  tiny  rills."  It  is  only  where 
the  plateau  breaks  and  a  glen  is  formed  that  one  can  look  for 
returns  from  labor.  With  the  exception  of  tin-  olixi-  the  whole 
land  from  Ji-rus;Uem  to  the  \ieinitv  of  Ilcbion  is  treeless,  and  on 
beyond  where  tlie  hills  l)egin  to  descend  toward  the  desert  the 
same  is  true.  The  .South  Country,  with  its  uplands,  has  always 
been  famous  for  grazing,  and  today  thousands  oi  cattle  are  louml 
in    this  region.      Water  is  g.itlicrcd   in  cisterns,  .ind    to  thesi-   the 


STrniES  IX  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY  I  5 

shepherds  and  herdsmen  come  with  their  flocks  and  herds,  repro- 
ducing the  scenes  of  the  days  of  the  patriarchs.  Not  an  inhabited 
town  appears  in  this  whole  region,  a  fact  which  brings  to  mind 
the  prophecy  of  Jeremiah,  "The  cities  of  the  south  shall  be  shut 
up  and  none  shall  open  them"  (Jer.  13:19).  Beersheba,  with  its 
wells  and  nothing  more,  illustrates  daily  the  scenes  of  centuries 
ago  and  the  truth  of  this  sad  prediction.  From  this  description 
of  the  gradual  descent  of  the  hills  from  Hebron  to  I^eersheba  it 
will  be  readily  seen  that  Judea  was  exposed  on  her  southern 
frontier,  but  rarely  did  an  invasion  come  from  this  direction.  It 
was  easier  to  go  up  either  bv  the  way  of  the  Dead  Sea  or  west- 
ward to  the  Philistine  plain  ;  opposition  in  the  mountains  about 
Hebron  was  a  serious  matter.  Chedorlaomer  took  the  former 
route  ;   the  hordes  of   Islam  the  latter. 

The  third  feature  of  Judea  which  merits  especial  attention  is 
the  wilderness  along  the  western  shore  of  the  Dead  Sea.  It  is 
thirty-five  miles  long  by  fifteen  wide,  and  it  is  difficult  to  convey 
to  one  who  has  not  seen  it  its  utter  desolation.  From  the  top  of 
the  great  pyramid  near  Cairo  the  sharp  line  dividing  the  green 
fertile  land  which  the  river  has  made  and  the  silent  lifeless 
waste  of  sand  that  stretches  toward  the  horizon  is  traceable  for 
miles.  There  is  a  vivid  contrast  between  life  and  death.  Not 
cjuite  so  \'ivid  in  its  dividing  line  but  more  so  in  the  actual 
picture  of  desolation  is  the  desert  of  Judea.  The  Sahara  has  the 
gentle  undulation  of  a  great  sea  bottom  ;  Judea's  wilderness  is 
the  hideous  contortion  of  rock  ridges  with  gullies  between  them 
that  blister  in  the  sun  and  make  hiding  places  in  their  parched 
caverns  for  wild  beasts.  The  violent  rents  and  racking  that 
made  the  Dead  Sea  grorije  itself  are  reflected  in  this  broken, 
barren,  blighted  region  of  silence  and  death.  As  one  well  says 
of  it :  "  It  gave  the  ancient  nations  of  Judea  as  it  gives  the  mere 
visitor  of  today  the  sense  of  living  next  to  doom  ;  the  sense  of 
how  narrow  is  the  border  between  life  and  death  ;  the  awe  of  the 
power  of  God  who  can  make  contiguous  regions  so  opposite  in 
character.  '  He  turneth  rivers  into  a  wilderness  and  water  springs 
into'  a  thirsty  ground.'  The  desert  is  always  in  the  face  of  the 
prophets,  and  its  howling  of  beasts  in  the  night  watches,  and  its 


1 6  THE  BIBLICAL    irOBLD 

(Irv  sand  blown  niournfullv  across  their  gorges,  the  foreboding  of 
judgment."  On  its  eastern  side  it  ends  in  cliffs  that  strike  down 
2000  feet  to  the  shore  of  the  Salt  Sea.  A  wild,  degraded  tribe 
of  Arabs  inhabits  its  southern  part.  who.  b\'  their  sudden  and 
unfricndlv  appearings  and  as  sudden  disappearings,  helj)s  us  to 
understand  some  of  the  exploits  of  David  when  he  wandered 
here  as  "a  partridge  on  the  mountains."  Here,  in  this  desert, 
John  the  I^aptist  prepared  himself  for  his  mission,  going  far 
enough  into  its  solitudes  to  be  alone  with  God;  meditating  under 
the  bright  stars  of  a  Syrian  sky  upon  the  prophecy  which  was 
even  then  being  fulfilled,  and  gathering  into  his  thoughts  some 
of  the  sternness  of  his  environment  that  lie  might  face  the  mul- 
titude with  the  crv  :  "Repent!  prepare  the  way  of  the  Lord!" 
Here  the  Lord  himself  met  and  defeated  the  prince  of  desolation 
—  an  event  which  invests  this  wild  haggard  region  with  inij)crish- 
able  interest. 

As  with  a  glance  we  have  seen  the  land  of  Judea.  What  did 
it  do  for  those  who  dwelt  within  its  borders  r  Tlie  answer  is  not 
difficult.  Its  \'erv  isolation  would  develop  a  sjjirit  of  patriotic 
zeal  in  case  those  who  dwelt  within  it  were  called  to  its  defense. 
Once  and  again  this  was  a  necessitv.  Those  mountain  ])asses 
were  formidable.  l)ut  they  could  be  taken  unless  protected  ;  those 
barren  rocks  and  shallow  \alle\s  would  gi^'e  nothing  e.\ce|)t  to 
toil  and  thrift.  .Safety  and  sustenance  were  the  outcome  of  cour- 
age and  care.  Both  alike  threw  the  peoj)le  back  constantly  ujjon 
the  necessitv  of  dej)endence  upon  (jod.  On  those  high  hills  thev 
were  kej)t  with  just  that  intermixture  of  trial  antl  securit\'  which 
should  fit  them  for  his  purpose.  The  glor\'  of  the  temple,  tcjo, 
was  on  those  hills,  and  that  passionate  patriotism  which  ins|)ired 
the  delermiiu-d  resistance  of  tlu-  Maccabees  and  the  awlul 
struggle  at  Masada  tells  us  s(imething  of  the  characti-r-material 
formed  amid  those  heights.  The  shadow  side  of  all  this  was 
that  bigotry  which  reached  its  climax  in  the  refusal  to  listen  for 
one  moiHfnt  to  the  voice  of  the  lowly  .Messiah. 

As  far  as  the  life  and  ministrx"  of  our  Lord  recordetl  in  the 
gospels  are  concerned  tlu-  |)Iace  of  cliiti  interest  is.  of  course, 
Jerusalem.       Tlic  piilures(|ue  little  town  ot  ik-than\-,  just  o\c-r  the 


STrDI/-:s  /X  PALESTJX/AX  GEOGRAPHY  1/ 

brow  of  the  Mount  of  Olives;  the  Jericho  road  and  Jericho 
itself;  the  town  of  Kphraim  to  which  he  fled  from  the  jews,  and 
supposed  to  be  northeast  of  Jerusalem  in  the  wild  hill  country  ; 
the  village  of  Emmaus,  not  surelv  identified,  but  placed  bv  Conder 
at  Khamasa,  seven  miles  southwest  of  Jerusalem  —  these  are  the 
places  mentioned  in  connection  with  his  ministry  in  Judea. 
Bethlehem's  honor  we  have  alreadv  noted.  That  possible  fuller 
record  of  which  John  speaks  might  have  told  us  of  journeys  to 
the  plain  and  to  Hebron  and  round  about  Jerusalem  ;  at  any  rate 
we  can  see  the  land  as  he  saw  it,  and  estimate  its  bearings  upon 
those  who,  under  favoring  conditions,  inhabited  it.  Its  chief 
glory  to  our  Master  was  that  within  its  borders  he  was  to  accom- 
plish the  will  of  Him  who  set  apart  its  mountains  for  the  training 
of  a  people  out  of  whose  midst  he,  the  Messiah,  came.  That, 
too,  is  its  glory  in  our  e\"es. 

III.    JEKUSALE>r. 

The  interest  of  the  traveler  in  Palestine  climaxes  as  he  goes 
up  to  Jerusalem.  Eagerly  he  watches  for  the  first  sight  of  her 
walls  and  regictfulh'  he  turns  awav  from  her  streets  and  the  hills 
and  valleys  round  about  her.  \Vhoe\er  goes  intelligently  need 
fear  no  despoiling  of  his  idealizations,  but  rather  may  gain  that 
vivid  realization  of  the  natural  scenery  of  much  of  the  Bible 
story  that  will  alwavs  gi\'e  it  freshness.  We  say  "whoever  goes 
intelligentlv,"  and  that  means  two  things,  going  with  some  con- 
ception of  the  present  condition  of  the  land  and  citv,  and  some 
acquaintance  with  the  work  that  has  been  done  in  recent  years 
helping  toward  an  accurate  determination  of  localities  connected 
with  Ihe  history  of  both  Testaments. 

There  is  perhaps  no  place  on  the  globe  where  tradition  and 
superstition  have  worked  so  well  together.  The  city  and  the 
surrounding  hills  are  full  of  "sites,"  and  credulous  pilgrims  with 
no  knowledge  of  the  changes  which  an  eventful  history  has 
brought  about  kneel  at  impossible  shrines  and  listen  to  absurd 
identifications.  The  supreme  interest  of  the  city  for  a  Christian 
is,  of  course,  in  its  connection  with  the  life  of  our  Lord,  and  the 
purpose  of  this  sketch  is,  as  far  as  possible,  to  mark  the  outline 


1 8  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

of  that  which  was  the  cit\'  io  him,  aiul  to  show  its  difference 
from  the  Jerusalem  of  today.  To  help  us  we  have,  as  the  result 
of  recent  excavations  and  measurements,  the  establishment  of 
the  rock-le\els  all  about  the  cit\"  and  the  definite  settlement  of 
some  points  of  to})Ography  which  are  of  great  \alue. 

To  get  some  idea  of  modern  Jerusalem,  let  us  imagine  our- 
selves uj)on  the  slope  of  Olivet  east  of  the  cit\'.  As  we  look 
toward  the  west,  we  have  immediately  in  front  of  us  the  large 
cjuadrangle  of  the  moscjues  of  Omar  and  El  Aksa,  co\ering  about 
thirtv-fi\e  acres  ;  bevond  to  the  north  of  this  (piadrangle,  and 
parth  on  the  west  of  it,  is  the  jNIohammedan  quarter;  on  the 
hill  at  our  right,  and  west  of  the  Mohammedan  quarter,  is  the 
Christian  section  ;  south  of  this,  and  on  the  highest  i)art  of  the 
citv,  the  Armenian  (piarter,  and  adjoining  this  on  the  east,  reach- 
ing from  it  to  the  western  wall  of  the  sacred  (juadrangle,  the 
Jewish  quarter. 

Notable  buildings  appear  on  all  sides  amid  indistinguishable 
dwellings.  The  mixture  of  minaret  and  tower,  of  church,  con- 
vent, and  sxnagogue  makes  evident  the  religious  difterence  of 
the  city,  which  is  comparativelv  small,  and  as  of  old,  "compacted 
together."  Her  streets  are  narrow  and  irregular,  and  not  remark- 
able for  cleanliness.  There  is  yet  no  good  water  sujjply,  and 
the  inhabitants  are  generally  jwor.  Nevertheless,  interest 
deej)ens  as  one  studies  the  view  and  seeks  to  replace  in  thought 
the  Jerusalem  of  other  days.  Rej)cated  de\astations  have 
changed  the  ajjpearance  of  the  cit\-  in  some  important  respects, 
as  have  also  changes  in  the  line  of  the  walls. 

By  consulting  the  map,  which  exhibits  the  rock\-  contours, 
one  can  see  how  the  cit\  is  placed.  It  rests  on  two  promontories 
of  rock  formed  respecti\'el\-  bv  the  Kedron  and  Tyrop(».'on 
valleys  on  one  side  and  this  latter  and  the  liinnom  \alley  on  the 
wirst.  Tlie  Kedron  starts  on  the  north  and  sweej)s  around  past 
He/.elha  and  .Moriali  and  (  )plul.  Tlu-  Txropirou  begins  near 
the  j)rcsent  Damascus  gate  and  runs  southeast  right  through  the 
citv  sending  off  an  arm  which  reaches  nearly  to  the  Jaffa  gate, 
l^xcept  in  its  lower  |)ortion,  this  valle\-  is  not  distinctly  marked, 
and  it  is  not  strange-,  for  nearl\-  fift\-  feet  of  debris  fill  it  up.      The 


STUDIES  L\  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY 


19 


present  wall  dates  only  from  the  time  of  Solyman  the  Magnifi- 
cent, 1542;  buried  beneath  the  rubbish  of  centuries  lie  most  of 
the  walls  of  the  old  city. 


di-UL 


SU^  v^y(./^^<'(j-Vc-^-^/^-^^-'^-' 


Ph.  a-tuu£t.t^  . 


But  the  work  of  the  last  twenty-five  years  under  the  direction 
of  the  Palestine  Exploration  Society  has  done  very  much  toward 
helping  us  to  an  accurate  restoration  of  the  Herodian  city  with 
which  our  Lord  was  familiar.  The  following  facts  are  now 
beyond  dispute:  the  position  of  Ophel,  south  of  the  present 
temple  inclosure ;  the    direction    and    depth    of    the  Tyropoeon 


20  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

vallev  ;  tlie  name  of  the  .southeastern  hill  of  tlie  citv  —  the 
upper  citv  ;  the  position  of  the  pool  of  Siloani  below  the  s])ur  of 
( )j)hel  ;  the  location  of  the  roval  towers  near  the  j)resent  tower 
of  Da\i(-1,  in  the  first  wall  ;  the  southwestern  anidc  of  the  old 
"first"  wall  at  the  rock-scarf  in  the  present  Protestant  ccmeterv 
on  the  Zion  Hill;  the  position  of  the  Tyropceon  bridge  leading 
to  the  roval  cloisters  of  the  temple,  the  position  of  the  southwestern 
angle  of  the  temj)le  inclosure.  These  facts,  together  with  the 
description  of  the  rock-levels,  put  us  in  the  wa\-  of,  at  least, 
more  intelligent  discussion  of  the  great  problems  yet  in  cpiestion 
—  of  these  the  greatest  are  these  :  (^/)  the  extent  of  the  old  city 
in  the  time  of  Christ ;  {b')  the  area  of  the  temple  inclosure  at 
the  time  of  Herod's  enlargement;  (r)  the  site  of  Calvary.  If 
wc  could  be  sure  of  {a)  we  would  also  be  a  long  way  tow  art!  the 
determination  of  ic).  That  ancient  Jerusalem  was  a  far  nobler 
citv  than  that  which  now  fronts  Mount  ()li\et  can  be  readilv 
believed  when  we  think  of  the  glorv  of  the  tem[jle,  of  the 
jialaces  and  public  buildings  that  rose  uj)  from  the  high  city, 
and  of  the  walls  with  their  numerous  towers  and  battlements. 
In  the  fifth  book  of  the  "Wars"  Josephus  gives  the  course  of 
the  walls  before  the  destruction  of  the  city  in  A.  I).  70.  Let  us 
follow  them  as  far  as  possible.  The  first  began  near  the  j)resent 
Jaffa  gate  and  ran  directly  eastward  along  the  northern  K:(\'yKi  of 
the  hill  of  the  upper  citv  (see  outline)  and  emled  at  the  wall  of 
the  temple.  From  the  Jaffa  gate  it  went  southward  along  the 
brow  of  the  hill  facing  the  Hinnom  vallev  to  the  rock-scarf 
where  it  turned  eastward,  and  "bending  above  the  fountain 
Siloam"  passed  along  the  eastern  brow  of  the  hill  near  the  line 
of  the  present  wall  where  it  crossetl  o\er  aiul  came  back  along 
the  edge  (jf  ()phel.  It  is  but  right  to  sa\  that  the  direction  of 
the  wall  after  leaving  the  rock-scarf  on  the  southwestern  angle 
is  disj)uted.  Conder,  with  others,  makes  it  cross  the  Tyrop»ion 
just  above  the  pool  of  .Siloam.  while  I.euin  follows  what  st-ems 
th<-  more  likelv  conjecture  which  we  lia\e  already  indicated. 
The  moment  we  attempt  to  draw  tin-  line  of  the  secoml  wall  we 
must  face  the  serious  (juestion  of  the  |)lace  of  the  crucifixion. 
A  second  spot  is  coming   more   and   UKue   into   dispute  with    the 


STUDIES  IN  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY  21 

traditional  site  under  the  Holy  Sepulchre  Church  —  and  that 
spot  is  the  Grotto  of  Jeremiah,  not  far  outside  the  present 
Damascus  gate.  Nearly  all  the  data  for  determining"  the  direction 
of  the  second  wall  are  wanting.  Josephus  says  that  it  began  at 
the  gate  Gennath,  which  is  conjecturally  located  near  the  tower 
of  Hippicus,  and  ran  to  the  tower  of  Antonia. 

If  for  no  other  reason  than  the  painful  superstitions  which 
crowd  the  whole  interior  of  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre, 
that  were  sufficient  to  make  us  wish  to  find  some  quiet  spot  like 
the  hill  outside  the  gate  as  the  place  where  the  wondrous  sacrifice 
was  made.  Herr  Schick,  who  contends  for  the  present  site, 
makes  the  second  wall  turn  sharply  several  times  on  its  way  to 
Antonia.  The  rock-le\'els  again  seem  to  call  for  a  course  which 
would  include  the  Sepulchre  Church,  for  with  a  sloping  hill  a 
wall  would  be  a  weak  defense  in  proportion  to  its  distance  from 
the  summit  —  and  the  position  of  the  church  is  below  the  summit 
of  the  Akra  ridge. 

As  long  as  the  actual  remains  of  a  wall  in  this  region  aie  not 
clear  beyond  cjuestion  one  cannot  be  dogmatic  regarding  the  site 
of  Calvary,  but  the  evidences  of  an  old  gateway  found  near  the 
present  Damascus  gate  and  the  line  of  rock-levels  would  well 
support  the  theorv  that  the  line  of  the  second  wall  passed  north 
from  near  the  tower  of  David  along  the  ridge  of  Akra  to  the 
present  Damascus  gate  and  then  turned  along  the  ridge  of 
Bezetha  to  the  northwest  angle  of  the  temple  area,  i.  c,  to 
Antonia.  This  would  make  the  present  site  of  the  Church  of 
the  Holy  Sepulchre  untrue.  It  must  be  remembered  that  a  long 
time  had  passed  after  the  crucifixion  before  this  site  was  fixed 
upon  and  honored  with  a  memorial,  and,  as  another  has  remarked, 
it  was  as  eas\'  to  be  mistaken  about  this  as  about  the  location  of 
the  place  of  the  ascension  which  has  always  been  pointed  out  as 
on  the  top  of  Mount  Olivet.  Furthermore,  the  grotto  of  Jeremiah 
answers  to  all  the  conditions  of  the  Bible  account  ;  especially 
so,  if  the  present  Damascus  gate  marks  the  site  of  an  ancient 
gateway  on  the  much-tra\'cled  road  toward  the  north.  It  was 
then  without  the  walls,  near  the  citv,  near  a  leading  thoroughfare, 
conspicuous,  and   formed   like    a   skull.      As  we   stood   upon  the 


22  THI-:  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

clear,  quiet  spot  under  the  open  skv  and  (juitc  awav  from  the 
noise  and  muninierv  of  traditional  remembrance,  our  earnest 
feelings  were  onl\-  too  glad  to  second  the  judgment  which  makes 
this  the  most  memorable  place  on  earth  —  the  actual  scene  of 
the  crucifixion.  As  the  three  crosses  stood  upon  this  height, 
sixty  feet  above  the  road,  thev  must  ha\e  been  visible  from  the 
housetoj)s  all  about  Jerusalem.  Singularl\- enough  Jewish  tombs 
have  been  disco\ered  near  bv,  and  though  it  cannot  be  identified 
it  mav  be  that  one  of  these  was  the  tomb  of  Joseph  of  Arimathea. 
If  these  conjectures  are  correct  we  can  see  from  the  outline  that 
the  general  circumference  of  Jerusalem  in  Christ's  time  was  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  todav.  Now  the  southern  [)art  of  the  ujtjjer 
city  of  Zion  is  outside  the  walls,  and  its  area  is  occuj)ied  in  great 
part  bv  a  cemetery.  Ophel  is  no  longer  included  within  the  citv 
and  is  but  a  barren  rock.  On  the  northeast  the  wall  is  cur\  eil 
further  out  and  joins  the  temple  area  in  a  straight  line  and  the 
area  of  Akra  was  not  (juite  as  large.  (  )nly  a  broken  arch,  Rob- 
inson's arch,  remains  to  show  the  place  of  the  l)ri(,lge  which  led 
across  to  the  tcmj^le  area.  Indeed.  h\  the  filling  uj)  ot  the 
Tyropteon  all  the  ancient  aj^proaches  on  the  west  sitle  ot  the 
temjjie  area  are  obliterated.  No  wall  now  (li\  ides  the  cit\-  as 
did  the  old  "first"  wall.  The  brook  Kedron  was  deeper,  and 
all  the  surroundings  of  the  citv  must  have  been  more  attracti\e 
than  now.  The  Nvstus  stood  in  the  Tvroj){i'on  west  of  the 
temjjle  wall  and  the  tower  of  Antonia  probaljlv  at  the  northwest 
angle  (jf  the  great  area.  By  different  le\els  one  ascendeil  to  the 
Holy  Place  of  the  temjjle  itself,  and  thi>  inclosnrc-  was  enlarged 
bv  Herod  at  the  southwest  angle.  It  is  tlu- o|)iiiion  ot  Sir  Charles 
Warrc-n  and  Captain  CoikKt  that  the  northeast  angle  began  iumi' 
the  present  golden  gate  and  followed  the  line  ol  the  ridge  in  a 
north westerlv  direction. 

.Such  are  the  changes  that  eonie  to  light  1)\-  modern  exploia- 
tion  and  measurement.  TIkn"  give  us  some  idea  ol  the  general 
contour  of  the  ancient  citv  and  that  is  about  all.  At  least  twenty 
times  Jerusalem  h.is  been  besieged,  and  the  rubbish,  some  ot 
which  existi-d  when  Nehemiah  rtbuilt  tin-  walls,  h.is  been  heap 
ing  ii|)  so  that  near  the  soutlu-asti-rn  angU-  ol  tin-  present   ll.uani 


STUDIES  IX  PALHSTIXIAX  GEOGRAPHY  23 

wall  the  i^reat  stones  of  the  foundation  were  found  nearly  eighty 
feet  below  the  surface.  Still  the  general  position  of  the  city  is 
the  same  as  when  Christ  saw  it  ;  Olivet  is  watching  above  it  as 
of  old;  Gethsemane  cannot  be  far  away  from  the  traditional  site. 
The  deep  vallevs  run  vet  on  both  sides  of  the  steep  hills,  and 
Scopus  is  vet  seen  toward  the  north.  There  below  Ophel  is  the 
Pool  of  Siloam  ;  in  the  Kedron  vallev  is  the  old  spring  now 
known  as  the  Virgin's  Fountain- — -connected  In'  a  tunnel  with 
Siloam.  Underneath  all  the  citv  are  the  great  caverns  whence 
rock  was  taken  once  for  its  buildings.  One  can  look  down  into 
rock  cisterns  underneath  the  temple  area,  and  the  broken  aque- 
duct exists  which  brought  water  from  the  Pools  of  Solomon. 
Roman,  Saracen,  Crusader,  and  the  different  peoples  of  modern 
time  have  built  memorials  upon  these  sacred  hills. 

Estimated  according  to  modern  standards,  Jerusalem  has 
none  of  the  requisites  of  a  great  cit}'.  It  is  glorious  only  in 
memory  ;  for  its  associations  its  interest  will  be  imperishable. 
May  the  good  work  but  go  on  which  has  already  so  greatly 
helped  us  to  a  clearer  knowledge  of  its  topography. 

IV.     SAMARIA. 

From  the  fact  that  the  Land  has  its  chief  interest  in  its  asso- 
ciations with  our  Lord,  the  traveler,  as  he  turns  his  back  upon 
Jerusalem  to  go  northward,  has  generalh'  in  thought  the  hills  and 
sea  of  Galilee.  The  vivid  story  of  the  svnoptic  gospels  makes 
these  the  objects  of  desire  after  Jerusalem.  Samaria,  with  one 
possible  exception,  seems  merely  so  much  country  to  be  passed 
over  in  order  to  reach  Galilee.  Before,  howe\'er,  the  journev  is 
finished,  there  is  ample  reason  to  acknowledge  that  this  part  of 
the  land  has  its  own  imperishable  interest  on  account  of  its  phys- 
ical configuration  and  consecjuent  historical  associations.  If 
some  of  the  identifications  of  the  Palestine  P'und  explorers  hold, 
New  Testament  events  add  their  ])art  to  the  long,  varied  record 
of  scenes  enacted  amid  the  plains  and  on  the  hills  of  this  region. 
We  can  do  no  better  in  entering  the  land  than  to  follow  the 
m'odern  itinerary,  for  it  carries  us  through  the  heart  of  the  coun- 
try and  brings    us    face   to    face   with    its   distinguishing   marks 


2  4  Till:   lillUJCAL    WORLD 

Over  roads  that  arc  utterly  unworthy  of  the  name  we  travel  north- 
ward to  Bethel,  and  the  scenery  is  yet  the  same  as  that  described 
in    our  study  of  judea.      l^arren  hills   with    narrow  \alleys,  and 
here  and  there  some  cultixation,  mark   our  wa\-.      We  are  still  in 
the  borderland.      In  a  few    hours,  howexer,  after  lea\ing   Bethel 
the  scener\-  has  more  variation.      The  mountains  are  yet  rus^ged, 
and   the   roads  are  ston\-  enough,  but  the  valleys  begin  to  open. 
There  are  more  olive  groves.      What  looked  from  the  coast  like 
a  solid   wall   of  rock   forming  one  continuous  sky  line  with   the 
mountains    of  Judah  pro\-es  to  be  far  less  impenetrable  and  aus- 
tere.    We  are  coming  into  the  home  of  the  old  tribes  of  I^piiraim 
and   Manasseh.     Josei)hus    does,    indeed,    describe    Samaria    as 
"entire!}-  of  the  same   nature  as  Judea,  since  both  countries  are 
made  ujj  of   hills   and  valleys,"  but   the   descrij)tion  is  \-ery  gen- 
eral.     It  is  the  different   disposition   of   hills   and   \alle\-s   which 
lias  so  much  to  do  witli  the  peculiar  history  of  this   central  por- 
tion.    Samaria,  Shechem,  Bethshan- — one   must   know  the  spots 
ujjon    which    they    stood    to    appreciate    full\-   their   power  and 
glory,  their  trials  and  disasters.      The  natural  boundary  between 
Judea  and   .Samaria  is  the   present  Wady   Deir   liallut  —  a  water 
course  which  rising  at  Akrabeh   ( the  Accralji   of  Josephusi   runs 
westward    in   a   deepening    ra\ine    and    empties    into   the   Anjeh 
ri\er.'       Eastward    the    boundar\-    j)asse(l    north    ot     the    Kurn 
Surtabeh    ridge       tlu'    northern   boundar\-   of    the   lower  Jortlan 
plain- -and  ended  at  the  Jordan.      The    northern    bouiuhuy   was 
the  southern  edge  of  the  ]jlain  of  ICsdraelon  and  a  line  extending 
to  the   Jordan   close  to    liethshan    or  .Scytht)j)e)lis.      The   outline 
on  |)age  25  will  gi\'e  the  ])osition  of   these  marks. 

Within  these  boundaries,  exclutling  Carmel,  a  space  ot  1405 
S(|uare  miles  was  included.  Professor  Smith,  in  his  Iltitorunl 
(jcoi^m/y/iy  of  the  Holy  Lh/kI,  has  einphasi/c-d  the  "openness" 
of  .Samaria  as  com])ared  with  Judea.  ;\s  the  traveler  comes 
out  u|)on  the  broad  \alU'\-  leading  up  toward  .^luehein  or  enters 
the  valley  of  the  latter  city  itself,  or  rides  about  the  great  mound 
of  .Samaria,  this  feature  l)ccomes  \erv  striking.  The  road  from 
the  southern  boundary,  of  which  we  h;i\e  spoken,  to  the  northern 

'  (./.  l^>N,t>:  Stiilannil  I'til.  I:\M«>-  luiii,  iSjd.  p.  (.7. 


STL'D/ES  IN  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY 


25 


frontier,  is  nearly  all  of  it  through  these  broad  valleys,  which  are 
well  tilled  and  yery  fruitful.  With  only  little  climbing  one 
passes  from  plain  to  plain  up  through  the  whole  land.  It  is  an 
easy  road  by  the  way  of  the  plain  of  Dothan  through  into  the  plain 
of  .Sharon.      No  steep  defiles  render  j^erilous  the  entrance  of  an 


fttflist.  $<»»»< 


S^^A^h'J^ 


enemy  from  the  east  or  the  west,  and  the  hills  in  many  places 
slope  gently  to  these  plains.  This  feature  of  the  land  has  had 
much  to  do  with  its  trouble  in  history.  Take  for  instance  the 
position  of  Shechem.  It  lies  in  a  yalley  which  sweeps  uj)  from 
the  plain  of  Sharon  past  Samaria,  and  is  thus  open  on  the  west. 
On  the  east  the  Wady  Farah  opens  in  like  manner  a  broad  way 
to  the  Jordan.  Beautiful  as  the  position  of  the  ancient  city  is, 
it  is  practicall}'  defenseless.  Hence  the  choice  of  Tirzah  and 
Samaria  and  Jezreel  as  places  of  abode  by  the  kings  of  Israel. 
About  the  strongholds  in  or  near  these  broad  yalleys  so  liable  to 
inyasion  haye  been  enacted  many  of  the  most  stirring  scenes  of 
the  land's  history.  .Samaria,  on  its  mounds  some  300  to  500  feet 
aboye  the  broad  valley  in  which  it  stood,  both  invited  and  resisted 
the  attacks  of  armies  from  the  east  and  the  west. 

■  At  least  three  of  these  easily  ascended  valleys  run  down  to 
the  Jordan  on  the  east,  while  the  gentle  descent  of  the   hills   on 


26  THF.   HIBLIC.IL    WORLD 

the  west  makes  access  to  the  plains  behind  them  in  no  way  diffi- 
cult. When  war  de})arted  from  them  thev  quickly  responded 
to  the  hand  of  the  husbandman,  and  i^ave  to  the  land  the  appear- 
ance of  Ljrcat  fertility.  The  picture  is  now  \i\id  in  the  writer's 
memory  of  the  field  of  i^rain  that  covered  the  plain  east  of 
Jacob's  well,  of  the  long  lines  of  olive  trees  up  the  sides  of  the 
valleys,  and  of  the  \ineyards  w  ith  their  promise  of  rich  fruitage, 
."^amaria  is  a  goodly  land.  \Vc  think  of  it.  j)erhaps,  too  often  as 
the  home  of  the  hated  ri\al  sect  of  the  jews,  or  it  is  linked  with 
the  memory  of  the  extreme  deeds  of  the  Israelitish  kings.  Its 
very  physical  character  made  it.  as  one  has  said  of  it,  "oftener 
the  temptation  than  the  discipline,  the  betrayer  than  the  guar- 
dian of  its  own,"  and  so  on  one  side  the  picture  is  of  fair  fields 
and  fine  olive  groves  ;  on  the  other  of  beleaguered  cities  and 
desolating  struggles.  The  best  point  of  view  for  a  witlc  outlook 
over  the  land  is  from  the  top  of  Mount  Kbal.  Its  towering  sum- 
mit reaches  above  the  outline  of  the  i)lateau  seen  from  the  coast, 
and  tells  one  at  that  distance  the  position  of  Shechcm,  which  for 
beauty  antl  attractiveness  is  unsurpassed.  Blount  Ebal  is  3077 
feet  above  the  sea  level  and  1200  feet  above  the  valley.  What 
Xebv  .*^amwil  is  for  a  prosjjcct  over  Judea,  this  noble  mountain 
is  for  Samaria.  ( )n  the  north  one  can  sec  to  the  high  hills  oi  (Gal- 
ilee on  the  left  beyond  the  .Sea  of  Galilee,  and  back  of  them  the 
snowy  height  of  Hermon  ;  on  the  east  beyond  the  Jordan  gorge 
stretches  the  broad  plateau  of  the  llauran;  on  the  south  are 
the  mountain  luights  above  Hethel  ;  on  tlic  west  the  maritime 
jjlain  with  the  nourishing  cities  of  Ramleh,  Ludd.  and  Jaffa,  and 
beyond  the  l)lue  sea.  Nearl\-  the  same  j)rosj)ect  can  be  had  from 
Mount  Geri/.ini,  though  it  is  not  (juite  as  full,  as  the  mountain  is 
some  200  feet  lower.  The  jjlaces  of  historic  interest  are  too 
numerous  to  note  in  an  article  of  this  length,  but  we  must 
stoj)  long  enough  to  mark  a  lew  that  ha\-e  especial  interest  in 
cf)nnection  with  our  Lord's  ministrw  Just  below  us  in  the  \alley 
is  the  site  of  Jacob's  well  one  of  the  two  or  three  sjxits  in  the 
land  where  -me  can  feel  that  he  is  actually  upon  a  ])lace  made 
sacred  bv  the  Unowii  presence  of  our  Lord.  Dr.  I  liomson  has 
called    oin  .itteiition    to   tin-  \(.i\    few   i>laci-s   connected  with    the 


STUDIES  IX  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY  27 

Master's  life  and  work  which  can  be  positivel}'  identified.  Tra- 
dition tries  to  mark  the  spot  of  every  notable  event,  but,  as  if  to 
render  impossible,  at  least  to  intelligent  pilgrims,  the  temptation 
to  idolatry  of  places,  the  exact  position  of  nearly  every  one  is 
obscured  or  lost.  We  must  content  ourselves  with  general  views 
and  fasten  our  thought  rather  upon  him.  It  is  therefore  with 
deep  interest  that  one  looks  down  into  this  deep  well  of  Jacob, 
sits  upon  the  curb,  and  recalls  that  great  discourse  which  fell 
upon  the  astonished  ears  of  the  Samaritan  woman.  Jewish, 
Samaritan,  Christian,  and  Mohammedan  tradition  agree  about 
the  site,  and  it  remarkably  answers  to  all  the  demands  of  both  the 
storv  of  the  Old  Testament  and  that  of  the  New.  The  well  is 
now  seventy-five  feet  deep,  but  was  much  deeper,  since  the  bot- 
tom is  filled  up  for  many  feet  with  stones  thrown  in  by  passing 
travelers.  We  had  a  drink  of  its  cool,  refreshing  water,  and 
coming  to  it  about  the  same  time  of  dav.  "the  sixth  hour,"  after 
a  long,  warm  ride  we  were  able  fully  to  enter  into  the  descrip- 
tion in  John.  One  lifts  the  eve  now  upon  the  fields  in  the  plain 
of  Moreh  giving  promise  of  the  har\'est,  and  imagination  readilv 
pictures  the  scene  of  the  Samaritan  woman,  the  wondering  dis- 
ciples, and  the  curious  people  hurrving  over  from  the  near  town 
of  Sychar.  This  lies  about  half  a  mile  away  en  the  southeast 
slope  of  Ebal.  It  is  a  simple  enough  picture,  but  what  wide- 
reaching  truth  was  declared  that  day  by  this  humble  well ! 
Criticism,  in  its  eagerness  to  prove  that  John  could  not  have 
written  the  fourth  gospel,  thinks  it  finds  indisputable  proof  here 
in  this  very  scene,  for  there  is  "a  verv  significant  mistake,"  we 
are  told,  about  this  town  of  Svchar.  It  is  not  known  to  us  as  in 
Samaria.  Ever  since  the  time  of  the  Crusaders  there  has  been 
confusion  about  the  names  Sichem  and  Sychar.  But  the  earlv 
Christians  placed  Sychar  a  mile  east  of  Shechem  and  Conder 
shows  us  how  the  Samaritan  chronicle  clears  up  the  difificulty 
regarding  the  identification  of  the  modern  name  "Askar"  with 
that  of  Sychar.'  Every  consideration  argues  for  the  present 
identification,  and  here,  as  in  other  instances,  it  may  turn  out 
that  John  is  accurate  to  a  nicetv  in  all  he  savs  concerning  topog- 

'See  Qiiar.  Slate  incut  Pal.  Explor.  FioiJ,  1S77.  p.  149. 


2S  THE  niBIJCAL    WORLD 

raphv.  At  an\-  rate  here  in  this  ojjcn  \allcv  under  the  slope  of 
Gerizim  with  its  Samaritan  tem})le  Christ  declared  that  high 
truth  about  worship  which  shall  vet  do  away  with  all  exclusive 
temples  and  jniestlv  ritual.  This  one  sj)ot  has  the  deej)cst 
interest  for  the  modern  traveler  and  well  it  may.  Its  natural 
setting,  its  clear  identitv.  its  high  associations  give  it  worthy 
honor  in  the  thoughts  of  all  who  are  privileged  to  visit  it.  But 
there  are  possiblv  still  earlier  gospel  associations  in  this  region.  If 
one  looks  up  the  valley  to  the  northeast,  the  eye  falls  upon  the 
upper  slope  of  the  Wadv  Farah  which  broadens  and  dee[)ens  as 
it  flows  toward  the  Jordan.  There  are  copious  springs  in  this 
vallev  and  here  has  been  located  the  ])lace  of  John's  baptizing 
mentioned  in  John  3:23:  "And  John  also  was  bai)ti/.ing  in 
Aenon  near  to  Salim,  because  there  was  much  water  there." 
The  last  phrase  is  manifestly  a  necessary  ])art  of  the  description. 
It  certainly  would  be  superfluous  to  speak  in  this  way  regarding 
the  Jordan.  Ainun  (identified  with  Aenon  »  is  about  four  miles 
north  of  the  head  springs,  and  Salim  three  miles  south.  The 
jiroximitv  of  these  two  places  points  to  the  W'ady  I-'arah  with 
its  broad  \allcv  and  abundance  of  water  as  the  place  where  John 
sounded  his  trumpet  call  to  repentance  and  ba|)tized  those  who 
came.  The  common  conception  of  John  the  Baptist's  ministry 
is  that  it  was  near  the  wilderness  and  1)\-  the  Jordan  in  the  i)lains 
of  Jericho.  Thousands  of  j)ilgrims  go  each  year  to  the  supposed 
site  of  the  baptism  of  Jesus  across  the  plain  from  Jericho.  Tra- 
dition has  fixed  upon  this  site,  and  for  all  lliat  u  c  ]<no\\  it  may 
be  the  true  one,  but  in  John  i  :  28  we  are  met  with  the  pu/zling 
statement  that  "these  things,"  John's  testimony  and  baptiz- 
ing, were  done  in  Bethabara  (  .\  \'.;  liethany,  K.  \'.  1  beyond 
Jortlan.  W'lu-re  was  this  Bcthabarar  Was  this  al^o  in  the  plain 
of  Icrichor  The  difricultv  in  that  case  is  that  since  Jesus  was 
in  Cana  (Ui  "the  third  da\"  he  would  be  obliged  to  accomj)lish  a 
journev  of  at  least  sixtv  miles  in  one  dav.  Caj)lain  C'onder 
argues  carefuUv  for  the  site  on  the  Jordan  just  above  the 
entrance  of  the  Nahr  Jahul  into  the  river.  It  is  somewhat 
remarkable  that  the  name  "  Abara"  should  cling  to  just  this  one 
ford   of   the  Jordan.      lie   suggests   that    "  lUthany,  "    tin-    mt)st 


STUDIES  IN  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY 


29 


approved  reading,  may  refer  to  Batanea  on  the  east  of  the  Jor- 
dan. The  site  cannot  be  accepted  without  question,  but  as 
placed  it  would  well  agree  with  the  Scripture  statements  and 
show  another  important  move  in  the  active  ministry  of  John  the 


Baptist.  There  certainly  is  as  yet  no  reason  to  hurry  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  author  of  the  fourth  gospel  is  again  making 
a  mistake.  We  subjoin  an  outline  which  will  give  the  relative 
position  of  these  events  recorded  in  John's  gospel.  They  are 
worthy  of  study  in  view  of  the  plausible  criticism  that  tries  to 
use  them  against  John's  authorship.      These   same  valleys  which 


30  THE  BUI  Lie  A  L    WORLD 

have  engaged  our  attention  for  a  moment  saw  at  their  earlv 
coming  the  glad  hosts  of  Israel  and  the\-  might  well  rejoice  in 
the  land  God  had  given  thcni  as  the\'  marked  its  springs  and 
water  courses,  its  fertile  valleys  and  noble  hills.  Here  on  these 
very  mountains  over  Shechem  thev  listened  to  the  reading  of 
the  law  and  echoed  their  earnest  "amens"  and  then  went  forth 
to  struggle  for  the  mastery  of  the  land. 

Much  interesting  work  has  been  done  in  Samaria  by  the 
Palestine  K.Kploration  Societv.  It  has  supi)lemcnted  the  vivid 
description  of  intelligent  travelers  b\-  careful  detailed  work  and 
settled  more  than  one  im[)ortant  tjuestion.  Were  it  not  that  it 
is  more  to  our  purpose  to  gi\e  a  general  idea  of  the  land  and  its 
relations  to  the  New  Testament  storv.  it  were  pleasant  to  linger 
about  the  interesting  ruins  of  Bethshan  in  the  valley  of  jczreel  ; 
about  Samaria  with  its  broken  columns  and  ruined  church  ;  about 
Gerizim  with  its  manifold  sites,  Samaritan  and  Christian  ;  about 
Antipatris,  C.esarea,  Megiddo,  and  other  ])laces  rich  in  history. 
That  historv,  as  we  have  said  Ijcfore,  is  l)ut  a  retlcction  of  the 
conditions  of  the  land  itself.  In  her  stern  mountains  Judea  held 
her  own  and  waited  the  coming  of  her  Lord ;  Samaria  heard 
ov^er  and  over  the  tranij)  of  foreign  armies  and  was  in  possession 
of  a  "mixed  '  race  when  the  star  rose  over  Bethlehem,  but  in 
her  midst  was  declared  the  truth  which  is  yet  to  break  tiowii  all 
dividing  lines  forever. 

v.    (;ai,ile:k. 

Fortunate  is  the  traxeler  who  is  not  comi)elletl  to  enter 
Palestine  from  the  north  and  pass  from  the  glory  of  Galilee  to 
the  rockv  harri-nncss  of  jiuiea.  Jerusalem  is.  indeed,  before 
him,  and  Bethlehem.  I^\ery  part  of  the  land  is  full  of  historic 
interest,  but  there  is  no  finer  setting  of  the  pictures  of  the  gos- 
pels than  that  which  is  made  by  the  lake  shore  and  the  moun- 
tains of  this  fa\()re(l  region.  Nature  here  has  given  of  all  her 
wealth  springs,  brooks,  broad,  fertile  ])lains,  gi-ntle  hills.  |iUas- 
ant  N'allevs,  protected  mountains,  and  a  noble  lake.  1  lir  brac- 
ing air  upon  tin-  hills  and  tlu-  softer  climate  of  the  lake  basin 
iia\c    made    j)ossiblr    the    widest    \arii-t\-    ol    jiroducls    Irom    the 


6- ri 'DIES  IX  PALES TLYIA N  GEO GRA PHY  3  1 

land,  and    the   sea   has   done   well   its   part   in  supplying  human 
needs. 

We  can  best  study  it  all,  and  from  our  stud}-  g'ain  some  con- 
ception of  the  relation  of  the  land  to  its  history,  by  diyiding  it 
into  three  parts:  (i)  the  great  plain  of  Esdraelon,  (2j  the 
mountainous  district,  and  (3)  the  lake. 

Before  taking  these  up  separately  let  us  mark  the  boundaries 
and  extent  of  the  whole.  On  the  north  the  natural  boundary 
is  the  river  Leontes,  or  Litany,  which  ranks  next  to  the  Jordan 
and  flows  with  winding  course  down  a  deep  gorge  to  the  Medi- 
terranean. On  the  east  the  Jordan  and  the  lakes  of  Merom 
and  of  Galilee  make  the  natural  limit ;  on  the  south  a  line  pass- 
ing from  the  Jordan  along  the  southern  side  of  the  plain  of 
Esdraelon  and  running  along  Carmel  to  the  sea;  on  the  west, 
Phoenicia.  The  eastern  and  southern  boundaries  changed 
at  times,  but  when  these  were  as  given  above  all  four  included  a 
space  of  about  1600  square  miles.  From  Jenin,  on  the  southern 
border,  to  the  Leontes  is  about  fifty  miles,  and  it  is  about  one- 
half  that  distance  across  the  land  from  east  to  west.  It  was 
not  until  the  time  of  the  Maccabees  that  that  name  which 
appears  in  our  New  Testament  —  "The  Galilee"  —  came  to 
denote  the  whole  northern  region.  The  real  reason  why  the 
Greek  article  is  used  with  this  word  in  nearly  every  case  in  the 
New  Testament  (it  is  wanting  only  twice)  is  that  this  beautiful 
land,  widening  from  the  small  "circuit"  which  at  first  included 
only  a  few  cities  on  the  eastern  side,  became  at  last  '' tlic  cir- 
cuit," '' tJic  Q2X\\&&'  par  excellence. 

Taking  up  our  division  into  plain,  mountains,  and  lake,  let  me 
ask  \'ou,  in  order  to  gain  a  clear  conception  of  the  first,  the 
plain,  to  go  with  me  to  the  western  slope  of  the  hill  of  Moreh, 
which  rises  back  of  Shunem.  From  our  place  of  outlook  we 
can  command  the  whole  plain,  and  the  triangular  shape  of  it  is 
at  once  discernible.  If  we  make  Carmel  the  base  of  the  tri- 
angle we  have  for  one  of  the  sides  a  line  passing  north  and 
south  through  our  standing  place  and  for  the  other  one  run- 
ning nearly  east  and  west  along  the  base  of  the  Nazareth  hills 
In  crude  outline  it  may  be  given  as  on  the  next  page. 


32  THE  BIBLICAL    IfOKLD 

Two  prominent  o|)enini(s  into  it  are  on  the  eastern  side  of 
the  trianirle  —  the  plain  extending  to  Mount  Tabor  and  the  val- 
ley of  K'/reel.  which,  with  broad  sweej).  u^oes  down  to  the  Jor- 
dan. Awav  at  the  northwestern  corner,  where  the  northern  hills 
come  close  to  Carmel,  is  the  narrow  pass  of  the  river  Kishon. 
The  configuration  of  it  all  is  the  best  interpreter  of  its  troubled 
history. 

From  the  bav  of  Acre  at  the  northwest,  just  beyond  the  j)ass 
of  the  Kishon  ;   from   the    plain   of   Dothan,  which   is  se|)arated 


•'<^K^_^1-    MiJiM^'      "l^"^-^    M^J^ 


from  it  b\-  onlv  moderate  hills  on  the  south,  and  which  itself 
oj)ens  easil\-  into  the  maritime  plain;  from  the  \alley  of  je/reel 
with  its  ascent  from  the  Jordan  ;  from  the  openiiiu-  near  Tabor 
into  the  ujjland  by  the  lake, —  ready  access  was  found  to  this 
broad,  undulating,  fertile  i)lain.  It  is  tlic  highway  across  Pales- 
tine. I  lere  was  s|)ace  for  chariots  ;  and  armies,  (.itiur  trom  h.gypt, 
or  the  west,  c^r  the  east,  made  it  their  j)atiuvay  to  tin-  east  or  to 
the  sea.  Because  of  its  character  and  position  e\ery  j)art  of  it 
is  rich  in  historical  associations.  ( )ver  there,  nearly  opposite 
us,  where  tin-  Na/.artth  hills  ;i]>proach  Carmel,  was  the  camp  of 
Sisera  bv  the  pass  of  Kishon;   around  at  our  Utt.  as  u  (.■  lac'c  the 


STUDIES  IN  I\  ILES TIXIA  X  GEOGRA  PH  V  33 

west,  was  the  scene  of  Gideon's  brilliant  rout  of  the  Midianites 
who  were  encamped  just  below  the  hill  of  Moreh,  while  Gideon 
was  on  the  slope  of  Gilboa  opposite  ;  just  beneath  us  is  the  old 
camp  of  the  Philistines  at  Shunem  who  gathered  against  Saul 
and  defeated  him  on  Gilboa  ;  there  at  Megiddo  Josiah  attempted 
the  defeat  of  the  Egyptian  host  and  was  himself  defeated  ;  and 
south  of  us  near  Jenin  was  the  camp  of  Holofernes.  Near  Car- 
mel  were  the  camps  of  the  Roman  armies.  Again,  at  the  foot  of 
the  very  hill  on  which  w'e  are  standing  was  a  strongholci  of  the 
Crusaders,  and  here,  too,  the  French  routed  the  Turks.  And 
even  now  the  Bedouins  swarm  up  the  valley  of  Jezreel  and  make 
themselves  a  terror.  As  we  looked  out  upon  the  peaceful  scene 
one  bright,  sunnv  day  when  the  laborers  were  busy  in  the  fields 
and  the  charm  of  the  whole  landscape  with  its  frame  of  moun- 
tains came  completelv  before  us,  it  was  difficult  to  realize  that 
this  peace  had  so  often  been  broken  by  the  terrible  ferocitv  of 
war.  There  is  no  other  spot  in  the  world  quite  like  it.  It  has 
been  "big  with  destinv."  It  has  been  compared  to  "a  vast 
theater  with  its  clearlv  defined  stage,  with  its  proper  exits  and 
entrances,"  and  the  figure  is  striking,  for  the  drama  both  of 
nations  and  of  religion  itself  has  had  some  of  its  most  significant 
scenes  here  —  so  significant,  indeed,  as  to  suggest  the  symbolism 
of  that  greater  conflict  of  the  Apocalypse,  "the  battle  of  the 
great  day  of  God  Almightv  ....  when  the  kings  of  the  whole 
world  shall  be  gathered  together  unto  the  place  which  is  called 
in  Hebrew  Har-Magedon." 

In  vivid  contrast  to  all  this  is  that  (juiet  yet  thrilling  scene 
of  the  gospels  which  was  enacted  here  upon  the  very  slope  of  the 
hill  of  Moreh  —  when  the  sad  procession,  just  coming  out  of  the 
gate  of  the  city  of  Nain,  was  met  bv  the  Saviour,  and  its  mourn- 
ing turning  into  unspeakable  jov  bv  the  restoration  of  the 
widow's  son  to  life. 

As  we  turn  to  go  northward  into  the  mountain  district,  two 
ways  are  open  to  us.  Either  we  can  go  around  Tabor  and  ascend 
to  the  plateau  near  the  lake,  passing  the  ruined  fortress  on  Tabor 
which  guarded  this  road,  or  we  can  take  the  road  leading  us 
directly  to   Nazareth.      We  take  the   latter,  and   soon   find  our- 


34  i'^l'-   h'Jh'/./CAl.    WORLD 

selves  clinibinu;'  all  the  circuitous  way  which  brings  us  into  the 
very  heart  of  the  hills  and  to  Nazareth  itself.  One  cannot  forget, 
as  one  looks  upon  the  place,  that  here  Christ  spent  the  greatest 
part  of  his  life,  antl  as  the  scene  is  characteristic  of  the  hill 
country  of  Galilee,  we  may  well  stay  b\-  a  while  and  study  it. 
The  present  Nazareth  is  lower  down  the  hill  than  was  the  ancient 
town,  but  whatcxer  the  changes  in  the  j)lace  itself  the  hills  are 
there  as  Christ  looked  upon  them.  We  can  get  our  best  yiew 
from  the  ridge  back  of  the  town,  and  our  climb  is  rewarded  by  a 
prospect  that  is  as  yaried  as  it  is  interesting.  Looking  south,  the 
whole  western  portion  of  the  jjlain  of  Esdraelon  is  spread  out 
before  us,  and  on  beyond  it  I\Iount  Gilboa  and  the  high  hills  of 
Samaria.  As  we  face  toward  the  south,  on  our  right,  beyond  the 
hills,  gleam  the  waters  of  the  Mediterranean.  Turning  from  the 
sea  toward  the  north,  our  C3es  fall  upon  one  eml  of  the  large, 
fertile  plain  of  ;\sochis,  and  yet  more  directly  north  on  the  higher 
hills  of  upper  Galilee,  while  oyer  toward  the  northeast,  we  can 
discern  the  bortlers  of  the  lake  basin  and  the  \alley  of  the  Jordan, 
and  far  away  in  the  distance  snowy  Ilermon.  If  wide  prospect 
and  noble  scenery  make  their  impress  upon  the  mind,  what  a  joy 
this  scene  must  haye  been  to  the  opening  mind  of  the  Christ 
child  I  And  that  hilltop  carries  one  realU'  awav  from  what  is 
called  "the  seclusion  of  Nazarelh."  To  have  known  anything 
of  Jewish  history  must  ha\e  made  one  feel  on  that  hilltop,  back 
of  the  city,  how  close  b\-  it  ail  had  l)een. 

Then,  too,  in  any  geographical  stud\'  of  Galilee  one  must 
not  forget  the  ])lace  and  importance  of  the  great  roads  that 
crossed  it  ami  their  relation  to  the  cities  and  yillages.  Galilee 
was  much  m-arer  thf  life  of  the  world  than  was  Judea.  ( )\er  her 
great  highways  merchants  were  passing  and  repassing,  sokliers 
were  dispatched,  officials  journeyed.  And  some  of  these  impor- 
tant roads  were  but  a  little  wax  from  Nazareth.  (  )ne  of  the  great 
roads  from  l)amascus  camr  up  fr(»m  the  Jordan  to  the  plateau  on 
the  western  side  of  the  lake  and  crossed  to  Accho  by  Cana  aiul 
.Sej)phoris  ;  another  |)assed  around  Tabor,  crossed  the  plain,  and 
then  wi-nt  southwest  to  (ia/.a  and  I'.gypt.  Is  it  su|)posal)le 
tint  these  came  so  near  Nazan-th,  ;inil  \it  it  knrw    nothing  of  all 


STUDIES  IX  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY  35 

that  such  thoroughfares  imply  ?  The  more  we  have  come  to 
know  of  these  great  roads,  the  more  we  feel  that  the  estimates 
of  both  Dr.  Merrill  and  Professor  Smith  regarding  Nazareth  as 
being  in  the  very  midst  of  the  life  of  its  generation,  rather  than 
isolated  from  it,  are  worthy  of  consideration.  As  the  latter  has 
said,  "The  pressure  and  |)roblems  of  the  world  outside  God's 
people  must  have  been  felt  by  the  youth  of  Nazareth  as  by  few 
others." 

There  is  a  clear  line  of  division  in  the  mountain  district  itself. 
If  one  were  to  draw  a  line  across  the  map  from  the  upper  end  of 
the  lake  of  Galilee  to  the  coast,  and  then  mark  the  mountains, 
he  would  find  that  all  those  north  of  the  line  were  considerably 
higher.  The  average  of  those  below  the  line  is  under  2000  feet, 
while  above  it  there  are  those  as  high  as  4000.  This  latter  fact 
makes  the  scener}'  of  upper  Galilee  imposing,  and  yet  it  does  not 
take  the  stern,  forbidding  character  of  Judea.  Everywhere  the 
land  was  fertile.  The  region  all  about  Safed,  "the  city  set  on  a 
hill,"  was  marked  for  its  fertility,  and  Josephus  speaks  of  the 
land  as  "inviting  by  its  productiveness  even  those  who  had  the 
least  inclination  for  agriculture;  it  is  everywhere  productive." 
One  must  take  these,  and  other  statements  like  them  which  could 
be  quoted,  into  account  when  the  matter  of  the  population  in  the 
time  of  Christ  is  to  be  considered.  For  example,  it  is  said  that 
for  sixteen  miles  about  Sepphoris  (a  city  not  far  from  Cana) 
"the  region  was  fertile,  flowing  with  milk  and  honey."  It  is  not 
surprising,  therefore,  that  near  the  beautiful  open  valleys,  and  on 
the  gentler  slopes  of  lower  Galilee,  and  on  the  hilltops  in  upper 
Galilee  many  cities  existed.  Josephus  says  that  altogether  there 
were  204  of  them  —  the  smallest  of  which  numbered  above  i  5,000 
inhabitants.^  This  makes,  indeed,  a  large  population,  but  con- 
sidering the  conditions  of  the  land,  its  trade  interests  and  its  lake 
industry,  and  the  packed  way  of  living  in  the  cities,  this  is 
not  improbable.-  How  it  all  intensifies  the  picture  which  the 
gospel  gives  when  it  says  that  "Jesus  went  about  all  the  cities 
and   villages    teaching   in   their   synagogues   and   preaching   the 

■  Life,  XLV. 

^  See  for  other  reasons  Mkrrill's  Galilee  in  the  Time  of  Christ,  pp.  64  ff. 


36  THE  BlBLlC.il.    WORLD 

i^ospel  of  the  kingdom  and  healing  all  manner  of  disease  and  all 
manner  of  sickness"  (Matt.  9:35).  In  view  of  them,  with  their 
thousands  of  needy  souls,  he  could  j)athetically  say,  "The  harvest 
trulv  is  jilenteous.  but  the  laborers  are  few." 

Such,  in  brief,  is  the  mountain  district  of  Galilee  —  a  land  of 
valle\'s  between  beautiful  hills;  of  mountains  that  arc  imj:»osing 
but  not  l)arrcn  ;  of  springs  and  water  courses  that  were  the  \cr\- 
symbols  of  life  ;  of  vines  and  fruit  trees  and  grain  fields  that 
gave  support  to  a  great  population  ;  of  roads  and  caravansaries 
and  places  of  customs  that  kept  its  j)eople  in  close  touch  with 
the  world  be\-ond  ;  of  cities  and  tow  ns  that  themselves  teemed 
with  acti\itv.  In  Galilee  Christ  mav  ha\e  learned  far  more  of 
the  world  than  we  are  accustomed  to  think.  His  meditations 
upon  his  mission  and  upon  himself  may  have  gained  increasing" 
definiteness  from  the  very  enxironment  of  this  busv,  eager  i)ro\-- 
ince.  Nazareth  was  only  six  hours  from  Ptolemais  on  the  coast 
—  the  port  for  Roman  traflfic  ;  it  was  onlv  two  hours  from  Tabor. 
Xain,  and  Ivndor;  one  and  one-half  from  Cana  and  Sej)ph()ris, 
and  itself  a  city.  It  is  not  an  extravagant  supposition  that  Christ 
may  have  been  in  all  of  these  neighboring  cities  during  those 
vears  of  which  we  know  so  little.  There  is  onl\-  one  j)lace  on 
this  mountain  district  besides  Nazareth  tliat  is  mentioned  in  the 
New  Testament,  and  that  is  Cana.  The  modern  tra\eler  is  taken 
to  the  \iliage  of  Kefr  Kenna,  and  shown  the  waterpots  and  the 
place  of  the  wedding  scene.  Another  site  claims  the  honor  ot 
that  imperishable  incident,  l)ut  the  position  of  Kefr  Kenna  on 
the  road  from  Nazareth  to  the  lake  argues  for  it  rather  than 
for  the  other. 

hrom  all  that  we  know  of  the  .Sea  of  Galilee  the  contrast 
between  its  present  appearance  and  that  of  the  davs  when  I'eter 
and  John  fished  in  its  waters  and  Christ  taught  by  its  shores  is  sharp 
and  saddening.  It  was  our  privilege  to  look  down  u|)on  it  for  the 
first  time  from  the  I  lorns  of  1  lattin  on  a  loveK'  (la\'  in  .\pril,  uluii 
the  hills  all  about  were  covered  with  \erdure  and  tiie  waters  were 
as  blue  as  the  skv  they  refiecteti.  We  had  prepared  ourselves 
for  (lisap])ointnu-nt .  and  had  we  gazt'd  upon  the  scene  a  numtii 
or  so  later,  wiien  the  hot  sun  liad  witluTi-d    tlie  grass   and    taken 


.V Tl 'DIES  IN  PA LES TIXIA N  GEOGRA PHY  37 

awav  the  glory  of  the  springtime,  we  should  have  had  no  such 
delightful  memories  of  the  whole  region  as  we  gained  that  day. 
Despite  the  desolate  shores  and  the  deserted  lake  surface  it  was 
charming,  and,  as  the  sun,  toward  e\ening,  cast  long  shadows 
from  the  western  hills  across  the  still  waters,  and  the  coolness  of 
twilight  invited  one  to  walk  along  the  beach,  we  could  under- 
stand how  a  rabbi  might  say.  " Jeho\ah  hath  created  seven  seas, 
but  the  Sea  of  Gennesaret  is  his  delight."  What  it  was  in  Christ's 
time  we  shall  see  in  a  moment.  The  general  shape  of  the  lake  can 
be  best  seen  on  the  accompanying  outline  (p.  38).  It  is  twelve 
miles  long  and  about  eight  broad  at  its  widest  part.  The  hills 
on  the  western  side  close  in  u[)on  it  except  in  two  places,  viz. 
just  below  Tiberias  and  just  abo\"e  Magdala.  There  is  quite  a 
recession  of  the  hills  at  the  northeast  corner  and  a  narrow  space 
runs  nearly  all  alongr  the  eastern  shore.  From  the  source  of  the 
Jordan  to  its  entrance  into  the  lake  the  river  has  made  a  consid- 
erable descent,  for  the  surface  of  the  lake  is  about  680  feet 
below  the  level  of  the  Mediterranean.  In  this  great  depression 
is  a  climate  like  that  of  the  tro[)ics.  One  can  see  in  a  moment 
from  the  configuration  of  the  shores  how  the  lake  is  quickly  and 
violently  tossed  by  the  winds.  Down  the  gorges  through  which 
the  streams  find  their  way  the  cooler  winds  of  the  uplands  are 
drawn  as  through  funnels,  and  almost  without  warning  they  lash 
the  lake  surface  and  place  anything  upon  it  in  peril.  These  sud- 
den violent  squalls  but  repeat  the  "storms"  which  are  the  setting 
of  some  of  the  vivid  events  of  the  gospels. 

When  we  referred  to  the  contrast  of  the  present  ap[jearance 
of  the  lake  to  that  of  Christ's  day,  we  had  in  mind  especially 
the  life  and  thrift  at  that  time  everywhere  apj)arent.  Tiberias 
with  its  wretched  poverty,  and  the  miserable  Mejdel  ( ]\Iagdala) 
arc  now  the  only  places  of  human  habitation,  and  one  has  no 
desire  to  linger  by  either  of  them.  We  had  difficulty  in  securing 
a  single  boat  to  carry  us  over  to  Capernaum.  The  blight  of 
the  Turk  is  upon  this  fair  region.  What  must  have  been  the 
charm  of  the  scene  when,  added  to  all  its  own  attractiveness, 
there  was  that  of  hundreds  of  boats  moving  in  all  directions; 
of  beautiful   palaces  with   fruitful   gardens  all  along  the  shore  ; 


->"^ 
:>'^ 


THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 


of  large  towns  full  of  activity  and  of  highways  busv  with  trade 
Nine  or  more  cities  stood  on  or  near  the  shores,  and  every 
])hasc  of  life  was  represented  in  them.  The  region  of  Gennesaret 
which  begins  at  Magdala  and  extends  along  the  lake,  according 


^1  ><OTMJ 


STUDIES  L\  PALESTINIAX  GEOGRAPHY  39 

to  Josephus,  thirty  furlongs  with  an  average  breadth  of  twenty 
furlongs  was  the  very  "garden  of  the  Lord."  In  its  genial 
climate  and  soil  flourished  the  walnut,  the  j)alm.  the  fig  tree 
and  the  olive,  exhibiting",  as  Josephus  says,  "an  ambitious  effort 
of  nature,  doing  violence  to  herself  in  bringing  together  plants 
of  discordant  habits  and  an  amicable  rivalrv  of  the  seasons,  each, 
as  it  were,  asserting  her  right  to  the  soil." 

With  the  deepest  interest  one  comes  to  this  jiart  of  the  land 
and  of  the  lake,  for  here  the  Lord  spent,  if  we  count  his  whole 
ministrv,  three  and  one-half  years,  tzvo  of  these  momentous  years 
making  Ca|)ernaum  "his  own  city,"  doing  many  mighty  works 
both  in  Bethsaida  and  Chorazin.  and  going  from  this  region  for 
his  tours  in  upper  and  lower  Galilee.  All  three  cities,  Beth- 
saida, Chorazin,  and  Capernaum,  are  in  question.  Taking 
Josephus'  description  of  the  extent  of  Gennesaret,  Capernaum 
may  well  be  placed  at  Khan  Minyeh.  It  then  stood  upon  an 
elevation  commanding  in  position,  and  it  was  near  the  point 
where  the  roads  from  the  south  and  the  west  turned  into  the 
road  to  Damascus.  The  ruins  of  the  svnagogue  at  the  present 
Tell  Hum  signify  little  for  the  determination  of  the  site,  and 
there  is  much  more  to  be  said  for  Khan  Minveh  than  for  this. 
Chorazin  is  placed  about  two  and  one-half  miles  northwest  of 
Tell  Hum  on  the  left  bank  of  a  vallev  which  comes  down  to  the 
lake  near  Tell  Hum.  Bethsaida,  if  there  were  two  Bethsaidas, 
was  probablv  at  .\in  Tabighah.  There  is  much  to  support  this, 
and,  if  wc  acce|)t  it,  the  beautiful  shore  that  here  skirts  the 
lake  is  a  memorable  place.  Its  gentle  sandy  slope  is  admirablv 
adapted  for  fishing  boats.  Here  upon  the  beach  the  multitude 
stood  while  Jesus  spake  to  them  from  a  boat  just  off  from  shore, 
and  to  this  the  wondering  fishermen  came  back  with  their 
miraculous  draught  of  fishes  and  "then  left  all  and  followed 
him."  But  Bethsaida  and  Chorazin  and  Capernaum,  all  of  them 
exalted  in  privilege,  have  met  an  earthly  judgment  which  has 
made  e\en  their  actual  sites  doubtful.  In  the  day  of  their 
privilege  thev  were  busy,  thriving  towns,  in  touch  with  the  out- 
side world;  apparently  "too  busy"  to  care  for  the  teachings  of 
a  proi)het    from    Nazareth.      On  the  o])en  space  at  the  northeast 


40  THK  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

of  the  lake  occurred  tlie  feeding  of  the  five  thousand,  and  at 
some  distance  back  from  the  shore  bv  the  river  Jordan  stood 
Bethsaida  Julias.  The  scene  of  the  cure  of  the  demoniac  is  located 
noarGergesa  on  the  east  side  below  the  Wad  v  Semakh.  How  much 
of  the  storv  of  the  gosjjelsplavs  upon  the  northern  end  of  this  lake  ! 
Here  were  the  beginnings  of  Christianity  in  the  lives  of  those 
disciples  w  ho  slowly  learned  the  meaning  of  his  words  and  deeds. 
Again  we  must  call  attention  to  the  position  of  it  all.  Why 
did  Christ  go  to  Gennesaret  to  make  his  home  ?  Why  did  he 
spend  so  much  time  about  the  northern  end  of  this  fa\ored 
lake  ?  Was  it  not  the  vcrv  character  of  the  people  that  called 
him  hither!'  Galilee  was  loyal  in  faith,  indeed  more  so  to  the 
law  than  Judea,  but  it  was  also  more  generous  and  large  minded 
because  of  its  closer  contact  with  other  peoples.  Here  he  would 
find  his  first  disciples;  here  he  himself  wished  to  move,  in  touch 
with  the  broader  influences  of  life,  and  no  place  on  earth  has 
more  hallowed  associations,  unless  it  be  the  slopes  of  01i\et. 
The  pictures  that  were  made  bv  its  fields,  its  \ineyards,  its 
highways,  its  streets  and  lanes  are  all  in  the  gospels.  Here  by 
day  he  went  about  doing  good,  and  when  night  came  with  its 
"deep,  blue  sk\',  spangled  with  the  brilliancv  of  innumerable 
stars,"  he  went  aside  to  pray.  Mountain,  lake,  and  the  hea\ens 
abu\e  them, —  all  speak  of  him. 

\l.    Till':    JORDAN    \AI.I.i:\'    AM)     llll'.     I'KKilA. 

In  order  to  gain  some  idea  o\  the  formation  of  the  great  cleft 
in  which  the  Jordan  flows,  imagine  the  whole  space  tiow  occupied 
bv  the  mountains  on  both  sides  the  ri\er  and  the  valley  covered 
b\-  the  waters  of  the  ocean.  This,  we  are  told  by  geologists  (  see 
Dawson's  Modern  Science  in  liible  I.t/nds,  Hull's  Mount  Seu\ 
Sinai,  and  Western  Palestine)  was  the  condition  in  the  Creta- 
ceous .\ge,  when  the  thick  limestones  of  both  the  Lebanon  and 
Judean  hills  wc-re  fornic-d.  Later  the  Cretacei»us  beds  under- 
neath were  "bent  into  folds,"  the  great  limestone  formatit)ns 
heaved  above  the  walt-r  makins^'  the  ridges  which  torm  the 
mountains  of  western  I'aK-stine.  on  one  side,  and  eastc'in  on 
the   other,    and    leavins^^    between    them    a  great    fracture   which 


STUDIES  /X  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY  4  I 

extended  north  and  south  for  over  350  miles.  On  the  western 
side  of  this  fracture  the  earth's  crust  subsided  and  between  the 
high  mountains  the  deep  hollow  of  Ccele-Svria,  of  the  Dead  Sea, 
and  the  Gulf  of  Akaba  came  into  existence.  The  final  form  of 
this  cleft  was  not  reached,  however,  till  that  change  in  level  which 
confined  the  Dead  .Sea  to  about  its  present  dimensions  and 
reduced  the  size  of  the  Gulf  of  Akaba.  Then  came  the  order  of 
sea,  river  valley,  lake  and  sources  such  as  we  now  have  them 
going  from  south  to  north.  Taken  all  in  all,  it  is  not  perhaps 
extravagant  to  say  of  it,  as  Humboldt  once  did,  that  "it  is  the 
most  remarkable  depression  on  the  face  of  the  earth."  The 
\-aried  character  of  its  lake,  river,  and  plain  scener\-,  the  sharp 
descent  of  its  rocky  floor,  the  majestic  forms  of  its  mountain 
walls,  the  peculiarities  of  its  climate,  and  the  singular  nature  of 
its  salt  sea,  make  it  full  of  interest  a])art  from  all  historic 
associations.  We  can  best  come  to  these  by  a  study  of  the 
phvsical  features  of  the  valley.  Leaving  out  the  Sea  of  Galilee 
which  we  ha\"e  already  brieflv  examined,  we  can  for  the  sake  of 
definiteness  divide  the  remainder  of  the  vallev  into  three  por- 
tions, ( I )  that  from  the  sources  of  the  Jordan  to  the  Sea  of  Gali- 
lee, (2)  that  from  the  Sea  of  Galilee  to  the  broad  plain  below 
Kurn  Surtabeh,  (3)  that  of  the  broad  plain  itself  and  the  Dead 
Sea. 

Amid  the  varied  and  beautiful  scenery  of  the  slope  of  Mt. 
Hermon  the  Jordan  begins,  and  its  beginnings  are  in  some 
respects  as  singular  as  its  course  and  ending.  It  leajjs  into  being 
from  the  great  fountains  of  Hasbeva  and  Banias  and  Dan, 
whose  waters  join  in  one  stream  in  the  plain  of  el-Huleh,  just 
above  the  present  lake  of  Merom.  These  springs  are  respec- 
tively 1700,  I  140,  701  feet  aboxe  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  out  of 
each  gushes  a  great  body  of  cool,  sweet  water  that  hurries  away 
to  the  plain.  Just  o\'er  us  is  the  massive  rock  front  of  Mt. 
Hermon  whose  summit  is  cox'ered  with  snow.  We  are  high 
enough  to  ha\e  all  the  products  of  a  northern  clime,  and  both 
Caesarea  Philijjpi  and  the  site  of  ancient  Dan  are  justly  noted  for 
their  rare  natural  positions.  Of  the  latter  it  used  to  be  said,  "it 
had   no  want  of  anvthing  that  is  in  the  earth  "  (Judges  18  :  10), 


42  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

and  the  spring  that  comes  out  like  a  river  from  the  western  sl()])c 
of  the  mound  on  which  the  old  city  stood  is  said  to  be  the 
largest  single  spring  in  the  world.  The  fountain  at  l^anias,  where 
Greeks,  Romans,  and  Jews  alike  have  left  traces  of  their  i)res- 
ence,  flows  from  under  a  mound  which  lies  in  front  of  a  large 
cavern  in  the  mountain  side.  This  was  the  grotto  of  Pan,  and 
Philip  the  tetrarch,  who  gave  the  i:)lace  the  name  of  Cnesarea 
Philippi,  beautified  the  temj:>le  which  Herod  the  Great  placed  bv 
this  fountain  and  grotto.  What  the  fountain  is  to  the  region  can 
be  inferred  from  the  words  of  another  who  describes  the  scene 
as  it  now  is  :  "  Exervwhere  around  the  ruins  is  a  wild  medlev  of 
cascades,  mulberry  trees,  fig  trees,  dashing  torrents,  festoons  of 
vines,  bubbling  fountains,  reeds,  and  the  mingled  music  of  birds 
and  waters."  The  traveler  goes  to  this  favored  s[)ot,  however, 
not  so  much  because  Herod  and  Philip  l)uilt  tem])les  there,  nor 
because  the  river  begins  there,  but  because  the  Lord  came  to  it 
after  the  Galilean  ministry  was  virtually  over,  and  there,  awav 
from  the  Pharisees  and  amid  surrountlings  almost  whollv  Gentile, 
received  the  confession  of  Peter  whicli  fullv  declared  him.  I<"()r 
sex'eral  days  the  Lord  remained  here,  talking  of  the  sad  issue  so 
soon  to  come  at  Jerusalem,  and  once,  at  least,  he  climbed  some 
spur  of  Hennon,  where,  in  the  solemn  stillness  of  its  e.xaltnl 
retirement,  he  was  transfigured  before  them.  Usuall\-  the  mod- 
ern traveler  Icaxes  "the  Land"  behind  him.  as  from  this  place 
he  mounts  the  ridge  of  Hermon  on  the  \\a\  to  Damascus,  and 
the  last  ])ros|)cct  o\er  the  upper  lordan  xallex'  out  upon  the 
mountains  of  upper  Galilee  and  down  toward  tin-  lake  makes  a 
happy  conclusion  of  all  his  tlavs  of  deejily  interesting  sight  see- 
inL(.  ( )ur  studv  leads  us  to  turn  the  other  wav.  and  going  down 
through  olive  groves  and  oak  glades  we  conu-  to  the  plain  of  the 
waters  of  Merom,  and  kee|)ing  to  the  right  wc  pass  the  marshes 
and  the  lake  itself,  and  come  to  the  rocks  that  hem  in  the  ri\er 
aftc'r  it  leavt'S  thi>  fust  lake.  We  \\\\\v  alreadx'  made  a  lonsid- 
erable  descent,  for  Panias  is  i  i.}{)  ft-et  abo\e  the  sea,  ami  Merom 
onl\'  \~  ^-^  feet.  The  lake  of  lluleh  is  about  four  mdes  long,  and 
two  and  three-(|uarters  broad,  and  tlu'  distauie  from  it  to  tlu- 
gorge  is  about  two  miles.      ;\s  soon  as  the  ri\er  strikes  the  edge 


STUDIES  IN  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY 


43 


'■'■"-'im^'^- 


44  THE  lUBIJCAI.    WORLD 

of  the  narrow  cleft  between  the  [)iccij)itous  hills  which  bound 
it  on  either  side  it  plung-es  downward  in  a  foaming,  seething 
torrent  over  a  course  of  about  nine  miles  and  descends  nearly 
900  feet  to  the  level  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  For  some  distance 
before  it  reaches  the  sea  it  glides  with  smooth  current  through 
the  delta  it  has  formed,  and  jjassing  the  site  of  Bethsaida  Julias 
and  the  plain,  enters  the  lake.  This  j)art  of  the  river  has  no 
special  biblical  interest.  The  great  Damascus  road  crosses  it 
about  two  miles  below  Lake  Huleh. 

Three  times  the  perilous  journev  in  a  boat  down  the  Jordan 
from  the  .Sea  of  Galilee  to  the  Dead  Sea  has  been  undertaken, 
and  the  interesting  account  of  Lieutenant  Lynch,  U.  S.  N.,  the 
last  who  accomplished  the  task,  in  1848.  gives  us  a  vi\id  picture 
of  the  sharp  turns,  the  frecjuent  rapids,  the  dangerous  rocks,  and 
l)recij)itous  banks  which  are  found  all  down  "the  (ihor,"  as  the 
Arabs  call  it.  The  valley  differs  in  width  and  general  character 
at  different  points,  being  for  the  first  thirteen  miles  below  the 
lake  not  more  than  four  miles  wide,  then  expanding  to  a  width 
of  over  eight  miles,  which  holds  until  we  come  to  Tell  .Sakut 
(  Succoth  )  when  it  narrows  again  to  about  one  mile  and  so  con- 
tinues to  the  Wady  Farah  when  it  broadens  out  considerably 
again,  until  south  of  Kurn  Surtabeh  it  oj)ens  into  the  "Circle  "  of 
the  Jordan  reaching  a  width  of  fourteen  miles.  The  great  plains 
are  therefore  op])osite  the  \alle\'  u  liicli  leads  u])  to  Lsdraelon  and 
over  against  the  road  which  leads  past  Jericho  up  to  Jerusalem. 
Why  should  this  fertile  valle\-  be  called  Aral^ah,  or  desert,  and 
in  the  New  Testament  the  "Wilderness"  (I\Lark  1:4,  ;  )  ?  Partly 
because  of  the  heat ;  j)artly  because  of  wild  beasts  which  infested 
it,  and  jjartly  because  of  the  reaches  of  unhealtln-  soil  in  it,  and 
the  impossiI)ility  of  irrigating  certain  |)ortions  of  it.  .^peaking 
ot  this  imp(jssibilit\-  and  ol  the  troubli-  of  wild  beasts  calls  to 
mind  the  actual  bed  of  the  ri\er  itself.  h'rom  llu-  hills  back  of 
Jericho  one  can  easily  trace  the  course  of  tlu-  ri\er  through  the 
j)lain  b\-  the  t.imarisks  and  >emi-tropical  Irt'es  that  fringe  its 
shore,  and  these  do  not  stand  u|)  clear  from  the  common  le\el  of 
the  plain,  but  are  in  a  (le|)ression  which,  opjiosite  Jericho,  is  200 
feet    deep    and    sometinu-s    one    mili-    i)road.       In    such   a  cut    the 


STL'D/ES  IN  PALESTINIAN  GEOGRAPHY  45 

river  finds  its  way  all  down  the  valley  and  the  banks  of  it  are 
mostly  white  marl.  This  is  the  space  the  river  floods,  and  amid 
these  trees  and  tangles  of  bush  and  brake  wild  beasts  made  their 
hiding  places.  This  was  "the  pride  of  the  Jordan,"  meaning  the 
"luxuriance"  of  growth  along  its  immediate  banks.  Upon  this 
level  the  receding  floods  left  the  wreckage  of  driftwood  and 
overturned  trees,  and  their  deposits  of  mud.  And  when  you 
come  to  the  river  itself,  its  turbulent  muddy  current  is  anything 
but  inviting.  This  is  particularlv  true  of  its  lower  portion.  The 
bathing  place  of  the  pilgrims,  as  we  saw  it  one  bright  afternoon 
in  April,  was  no  such  quiet  inviting  spot  as  pictures  have  made  it, 
for  the  reason  that  pictures  can  give  little  idea  of  the  swift  muddy 
current  that  at  the  time  of  harvest  overflows  the  banks  and  then 
recedes,  leaving  behind  mud  and  disorder.  Indeed,  the  whole 
river  compared  with  the  broad,  noble  streams  which  we  dignify 
by  this  appellation  is  unworthy  of  the  name.  In  a  land,  how- 
ever, which  knows  only  such  water  courses  as  find  their  troubled 
way  down  through  mountain  gorges  it  ranks  among  the  greatest. 

In  the  vallev  down  which  we  have  come  to  the  opening 
of  the  Jericho  plains  there  are  several  places  of  interest.  On 
the  plateau  just  south  of  the  Jarmuk,  which  drains  the  Hauran, 
stood  Gadara,  the  chief  town  of  the  "country  of  the  Gadarenes.' 
Below,  resting  on  a  mound  several  feet  above  the  level  of  the  river 
and  about  opposite  the  slopes  of  the  valley  of  Jezreel,  was  Pella, 
to  which  the  Christians  fled  before  the  siege  and  destruction  of 
Jerusalem  bv  Titus.  At  the  point  where  the  Jabbok  enters  the 
valley  is  placed  Succoth,  sacred  to  the  memory  of  Jacob,  and  on 
the  site  of  the  modern  Tell  er-Rameh  stood  the  large  town  of 
Livias  and  Julias.  "All  up  the  east  of  the  river  vou  come 
across  patches  of  cultivation,  the  projjerty  of  various  Bedaween 
tribes  on  the  highlands  to  the  east." 

It  is  a  pleasing  view  that  opens  to  the  traveler  who  goes 
"down  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho"  as  he  comes  to  the  edge  of 
the  mountains  over  the  plain.  A  large  sweep  of  valley  from  the 
sea  to  the  protruding  mountains  by  Surtabeh  on  the  north,  and 
across  to  the  hills  of  Moab  on  the  east,  is  within  the  range  of  vision. 
What  it  might  be  if  it  were  perfectly  irrigated  and  a  just  govern- 


46  THE  B/JiL/C.U.    WORLD 

ment  gave  protection  to  those  who  cultivate  it  I  It  is  not  a 
good  place  to  live  in,  for  the  tropical  heats  are  ener\ating,  but  it 
would  nobly  respond  to  diligence  in  cultivation.  As  it  now  is 
the  dreariness  of  it  but  adds  to  the  weariness  in  crossing  it  in 
order  to  come  to  the  traditional  spot  on  the  Jordon,  or  to  go  to 
the  shore  of  the  Dead  Sea.  Oxer  there,  near  the  northern  shore 
of  the  sea,  may  have  been  the  sites  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  ; 
right  before  us  is  the  stretch  of  the  Jordan  that  "rolled  back," 
and  "awav,"  that  the  host  of  Israel  might  come  over.  But  the 
point  of  greatest  interest  is  close  to  us  at  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tains. Who  could  recognize  in  the  name  of  the  miserable, 
filthv  village  of  er-Riha  a  form  of  the  word  Jericho''  Such, 
however,  it  is,  and  imagination  has  something  to  do  to  trans- 
form the  wretched  mud  village  into  the  statelv  "  Citv  of  Palms,' 
that  flourished  near  1)\-  in  the  davs  of  our  Lortl.  Josephus 
speaks  of  it  as  a  "divine  region,"  and  says  that  the  fountain 
near  by  watered  a  tract  "  seventv  stadia  long  by  twentv  broad, 
covered  with  beautiful  gardens  and  groxes  of  ])alms  of  various 
species."  There  seem  to  have  been  three  distinct  sites  for  the  citv 
at  different  times  of  her  history.  Joshua  found  it  near  the  present 
fountain  of  Ain  es  Sultan  ;  in  the  time  of  Christ  it  was  further 
south  toward  the  \\  ad\-  Kelt  and  nearer  the  direct  road  to  Jeru- 
salem. The  modern  er-Riha  commemorates  the  Jericho  of  the 
Crusaders.  One  onl\-  has  to  remember  that  Herod  li\ed  much 
in  Jericho  to  realize  what  kind  of  a  citv  came  suddenlv  to  view 
as  one  neared  the  sharp  descent  into  the  xallev.  Palaces,  baths, 
and  theaters  reared  their  stately  forms  amid  the  beautiful  gar- 
dens and  palm  groves.  It  was,  as  one  has  called  it,  "the  gate- 
way of  a  province,  the  em|)orium  for  trade,  the  mistress  of  a 
great  |)alm  forest,  woods  of  balsam,  and  \er\-  rich  gardens." 
Now  there  is  not  a  trace  of  it.  l^ark  of  tiie  city,  and  forming 
part  of  the  western  wall  of  liir  pi. tin  is  Mount  (Juarantania, 
whose  summit  has  ixcn  fixed  upon  as  the  place  ol  t he  tt.-m|)tation. 
It  is,  i){  course,  a  purely  traditional  site.  These  \ery  iieights  l)ack 
of  Jericho  have  been  one  part  of  her  weakness.  The  enervating 
climate  has  l)een  the  other,  and  oxer  and  o\er  again  she  has 
become  tiu-  spoil  of   the  concjueror. 


STUDIES  IN  PALESriNIAX  GEOGRAPHY  47 

It  is  a  ride  of  several  hours  from  the  site  of  the  ancient  city 
to  the  Dead  Sea,  though  its  blue  waters  seem  very  near.  As  we 
come  to  the  level  of  it  we  are  nearly  4000  feet  below  Jerusalem, 
and  1290  below  the  level  of  the  Mediterranean.  Add  to  this  the 
depth  of  the  sea  itself  at  the  northeast  corner,  1300  feet,  and 
one  gets  some  idea  of  this  stupendous  cleft  that  divides  Judea 
and  Moab.  The  Dead  Sea  is  about  fifty-three  miles  long  and 
has  an  average  width  of  nine  or  ten  miles.  It  has  no  outlet,  and 
that  means  much.  The  water  escapes  only  by  evaporation,  anci 
either  shows  itself  bv  a  haze  over  the  glassy  surface,  or  in  mists 
that  at  times  gather  into  clouds  which  break  into  terrific  storms. 
The  streams  which  pour  into  it  all  carry  a  bit  of  salt  in  solution. 
Down  at  the  southeastern  end  a  ridge  of  rock  salt  five  miles  long 
and  300  feet  high  adds  its  quantum  of  salt,  and  springs  in  the 
sea  itself  help  to  make  the  sea  five  times  more  salty  than  the 
ocean  and  fatal  to  all  life.  It  is  rightlv  called  the  Dead  Sea. 
There  is  no  bodv  of  water  like  it.  Like  the  mountains  of  Judea 
over  against  the  plains  of  Jericho  ;  the  wilderness  over  against 
the  fertile  valleys  of  Hebron  ;  snowy  Hermon  over  against  the 
plain  of  Gennesaret,  it  stands  in  vivid  contrast  to  the  Sea  of 
Galilee  whose  waters  it  constantly  receives.  The  rock  walls  on 
either  shore  go  up  over  2000  feet,  and  are  pierced  at  intervals 
by  deep  gorges.  These  mountains  stand  splendidly  against  the 
deep  blue  of  the  sea  itself,  and  if  one  will  know  their  fascinating 
glorv,  let  him  from  the  tower  on  Olivet  watch  the  sun  cast  his 
light  upon  them  toward  the  time  of  his  sinking  behind  the 
western  hills.  Another  has  said  that  the  history  of  this  unique 
desolate  sea  "  begins  with  the  story  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  and 
ends  with  the  massacre  of  Masada."  It  has  almost  nothing  that 
is  happy  to  tell  us.  The  one  incident  of  the  New  Testament 
which  brings  us  near  its  coast  is  the  shameless  murder  of  John 
the  Baptist,  who,  according  to  Jose])hus,  was  beheaded  in  the 
gloomy  fortress  of   Mach<erus  on  the  eastern  shore. 

Such  is  the  variety-  of  scene,  of  level,  and  of  climate  from 
Banias  to  Jebel  Usdum.  The  Jordan  was  the  great  "divider"  as 
well  as  the  swift  "  descender."  That  rift  was  the  real  boundary 
of  the  western  land.      It  is  at  your  right  at  every  \'iew  that  you 


4^  I'HE  niBI.IC.lL    WORLD 

may  have  toward  the  east  as  you  go  northward  from  Judca. 
The  high  levels  on  the  other  side  have  alwavs  been,  as  it  were, 
"aj)art.  "  It  was  more  than  merelv  a  river  crossing  to  go  "over 
jortlan,"  and  while  at  times  the  ri\er  has  not  been  the  western 
boundarv  of  the  people,  vet  the  sense  of  the  di\"iding  influence 
of  the  vallev  is  clear  enough  in  the  Scrijiture. 

Inasmuch  as  our  Lord's  ministry  touched  one  of  these 
divisions  which,  though  east  of  the  vallev,  was  yet  reckoned  as 
one  of  the  di\'isions  of  the  western  side,  it  will  be  well  for  a  few 
moments  to  look  at  Perea.  As  the  name  signifies,  it  is  the  region 
"beyond"  the  Jordon,  and  it  coukl  be  used  of  territory  of 
different  limits.  It  probably  extended  from  the  Arnon  to  the 
Jarmuk.  It  was  given  by  Herod  to  Antipas  and  was  reckoned 
as  w  ith  (ialilee  and  contained  a  Jewish  population.  (  )ne  could 
cross  o\'er  the  Jordan  just  below  the  Sea  of  Galilee  and  then  Ijack 
again  to  Jericho  and  so  reach  Jerusalem  without  going  through 
Samaria.  Into  this  region  Christ  came  u])on  his  final  dej^arture 
from  Galilee   (.Matt.   ig:2;   Mark   lo:  i  ). 

.Such,  in  brief  outline,  is  the  geography  of  Palestine.  ( )ne 
cannot  come  from  journeying  up  and  down  through  its  valleys, 
and  o\'er  its  plains,  without  realizing  how  great  is  the  \ariety  in 
the  small  territory  which  the  uliole  lantl  embraces. 

Not  onl\  for  its  central  position,  but  for  its  own  self,  it  was 
chosen  in  the  jjrovidence  of  God.  Mountain,  \'alle\.  ri\er,  lake, 
and  sea  ;  heights  far  enough  above  the  sea  to  ha\e  the  glor\-  of 
a  snow  crown,  de[)ressions  far  enough  below  the  le\el  of  the  sea 
to  yield  the  fruits  of  the  tr()i)ics  ;  wildernesses  desolate  in  their 
barrenness  and  plains  with  all  \ariety  of  ])roducts  ;  springs  that 
give  a  perpetual  outllow  of  life,  and  fountains  that  make  ri\ers, 
and  a  lake  that  called  about  it  a  varied  activity.  All  these  are 
reflected  in  the  imagery  of  the  Hook  whose  history  is  insej)arabl\- 
associated  with  them,  and  whose  pages  in  their  very  settings  of 
truth  have  soniethinir  foi-  ;ill  l.iiids  ;ind  I'limes. 


THE   BIBLICAL  WORLD 


CONTINUING 


The   Old  and  N'ezv    Testament  Strident 


Volume  VI.  DECEMBER,      189^  Number  6 


FORESHADOWINGS   OF  THE    CHRIST  IN  THE  OLD 

TESTAMENT. 


By  William    R.    Harper, 
The  University  of  Chicago. 

The  Greeks  stood  alone  among  the  nations  of  the  earth  in 
their  appreciation  of  the  beautiful ;  the  Romans  in  their  interest 
and  skill  in  organization.  The  Hebrew  nation  stood  alone  in  its 
overwhelming  sense  of  the  heinousness  of  sin.  This  thought 
controlled  all  their  thoughts.  Finding  themselves  in  the  midst 
of  sorrow,  wretchedness,  and  death,  all  of  which  are  the  result  of 
sin,  they  began  in  the  earliest  periods  to  look  for  deliverance. 
The  Jdea  of  the  character  of  sin  was  implanted  in  the  Hebrew 
heart  for  a  purpose.  This  purpose,  as  it  developed,  revealed  the 
divine  plan  for  man's  relief  from  the  consequences  of  sin.  In  a 
study  of  these  thoughts  and  utterances  which  look  forward  to 
the  Christ,  one  must  consider  the  subject  from  the  point  of  view 
not  only  of  the  divine  plan,  but  also  of  the  human  expectation. 
Israelitish  history,  wrought  out  according  to  a  divine  purpose  to 
furnish  a  basis  for  the  development  of  the  plan,  falls  into  sev- 
eral distinct  divisions,  each  di\ision  marked  by  certain  great  char- 
acteristics. 

I.  Recalling  the  history  of  Abraham,  the  patriarchs  who  fol- 
low him,  the  residence  in  Egypt,  the  exodus,  the  giving  of  the 
law,  the  wandering  in  the  wilderness,  the  death   of  Moses,  and 

401 


402  THE  BIBLICAL   H'ONLD. 

the  conquest,  we  may  ask  :  How  definite  at  the  time  of  Moses' 
death  had  the  expectation  of  this  deliverance  become?  and  how 
definite  at  this  time  were  the  promises  which  had  been  made 
from  heaven?  The  destiny  of  man  as  a  ruler  of  the  world  is  fully 
appreciated,  as  well  as  the  endowment  given  him  by  God  through 
which  his  destiny  may  be  attained,  namely,  creation  in  the  image 
of  God.'  The  nature  of  the  conflict  between  man  and  the  pow- 
ers of  evil  has  become  apparent.  The  struggle  will  continue  for 
ages,  but  in  the  end  the  woman's  seed  shall  be  victorious  over 
the  seed  of  the  serpent,  though  receiving  injury  in  the  conflict.^ 
The  necessity  of  the  close  indwelling  of  God  in  the  midst  of  men 
is  appreciated,  and  men  belie\e  that  God  will  in  a  special  manner 
take  up  his  dwelling  in  the  tents  of  Shem.^  It  is  evident  that  in 
the  successful  prosecution  of  the  plan,  one  nation  from  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth  must  be  selected,  guided,  and  educated,  and 
it  is  believed  by  the  Hebrew  nation  that  their  ancestor  Abraham 
was  thus  selected,"*  and  that  to  him  a  promise  was  made  of  a 
country  and  a  great  posterity  through  which  the  world  shall  be 
blessed.  A  tradition  also  exists  to  the  effect  that  this  blessing 
was  transmitted  from  Abraham  to  Isaac,  from  Isaac  to  Jacob.s 
and  that  from  the  sons  of  Jacob,  Judah  was  selected  to  be  the 
leader;  his  supremacy  to  continue  until  the  conquest  of  the  prom- 
ised land.^  As  time  passes  on  and  Israel,  having  left  Egypt, 
becomes  a  nation,  the  feeling  gains  ground  that  Israel,  in  order 
to  accomplish  her  work,  shall  be  a  kingdom  of  priests. ^  Balaam, 
hired  to  preach  against  Israel,  sees  the  nation,  with  the  insignia 
of  royalty,  destroying  her  enemies  round  about. ^  If  the  Israel- 
itish  nation  as  a  nation  is  to  be  a  mediator  to  nations,  it  soon 
becomes  apparent  that  for  this  work  a  special  order  of  men 
should  be  set  aside, —  the  priestly  order. ^  In  order  that  the 
nation  maybe  guided  aright, and  not  be  comj)elled  to  resort  to  nec- 
romancers and  wizards,  there  shall  be  raisetl  u|)  from  time  to  time 
prophets  wiio  shall  speak  to  them  the  law  of  God.'°      More  than 

'Gen.  1:2630.  s  Gen.  27  :  27   29.  '  Num.  25  :  12,  13. 

=■0611.3:14,15.  *  Gen.  49  :8-i2.  '°  Dcut.  18  :  15    19. 

3(ien.  9  :  25  27.  'Kx.  19:3-6. 

*Gcn.  11:26   12:3.  *  Num.  24  :  17-19. 


FORESHADOWINGS  OF  THE  CHRIST.  403 

this,  Israel,  in  order  to  perform  properly  her  mission  among  the 
nations  of  the  earth,  must,  like  other  nations,  have  a  king,  a  royal 
king/  The  thought  of  the  period,  therefore,  seems  to  have  con- 
nected itself  with  the  line  through  which  the  deliverance  is  to  be 
wrought ;  the  land  in  which  the  great  drama  of  deliverance  is  to 
be  played  ;  the  means  of  deliverance,  namely,  the  chosen  people, 
and  the  special  agencies  by  which  the  chosen  people  shall  effect 
the  divine  purpose,  a  priestly  order,  a  prophetic  order,  and  a 
royal  order. 

2.  In  the  period  of  Samuel,  Saul,  David,  and  Solomon,  the 
idea  of  royalty  is  uppermost  in  the  minds  of  the  people.  A 
monarchy  is  established.  The  king  who  shall  sit  upon  the  throne 
represents  Jehovah  ;  he  is,  however,  subordinate,  not  only  to 
Jehovah,  but  to  Jehovah's  messenger,  the  prophet.  In  this  period 
the  temple  is  erected  and  Jehovah  is  understood  to  take  up  his 
dwelling  in  the  temple,  a  great  advance  upon  the  dwelling  in  the 
tents  of  Shem.^  The  promise  is  made  that  David's  seed  shall 
be  established  upon  David's  throne  and  that  he  shall  be,  indeed, 
the  son  of  God  as  beforetime  Israel  had  been  called  God's  son.3 
The  king  with  Jehovah  at  his  side  shall  rule  over  Zion.  His  army, 
made  up  of  countless  youth,  shall  march  as  volunteers  under  his 
banner.  Guided  by  Jehovah  he  will  win  the  victory  upon  the 
blood-drenched,  corpse-covered  battlefield,  and  with  unrelenting 
vigor  will  pursue  the  conquered  and  defeated  enemy.'*  His  reign 
will  be  characterized  by  peace  and  mercy  ;  it  will  be  universal 
and  everlasting.5  The  whole  thought  of  the  period  turns  upon  the 
idea  of  the  king;  and  what  could  be  more  natural,  in  this  early 
age,  and  at  a  time  in  which  the  thought  which  filled  the  minds  of 
all  the  people  was  that  of  an  earthly  kingdom.  The  king 
described  in  this  ideal  manner  did  not  come  in  the  period  in 
which  he  was  expected.  When  at  last  he  did  come,  he  was  not 
the  king  that  had  been  described.  He  was,  however,  some- 
thing greater  than  even  Israel's  prophetic  vision  had  foretold. 

3.  In  the  southern  kingdom  after  the  division  there  is  little 
or  no  prophetic  impulse.      Here  the  monarchy  and  the  priesthood 

'  Deut.  17  :  14-20.  3  2  Samuel  7  :  11-16;   Ps.  18  :  43-50. 

»  Ps.  24.  '»Ps.  no.  5Ps,  72. 


404  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD. 

were  supreme  and  the  xisions  of  tiic  jjrophets  were  rare.  In  the 
northern  kingdom,  however,  after  a  century  or  so,  there  begins  a 
prophetic  activit\'  which  is  most  marked.  Elijah,  with  a  stern- 
ness and  se\'erit\"  almost  indescribable,  bewails  the  apostacv  of 
his  times.'  Elisha,  beneficent  and  courteous,  endeavors  bv  diplo- 
macy to  advance  the  interests  of  the  kingdom.^  The  schools  of 
the  prophets,  founded  back  in  the  times  of  Samuel,  are  greatly 
strengthened,  and  their  work  certainlv  assists  in  j)romulgating  a 
truer  concejition  of  the  Jehovah  religion. ^  At  this  time,  likewise, 
Jonah  makes  his  trip  to  Nineveh  ami  b\-  his  ])reaching  of  the  word 
brings  Nineveh  to  rejsentance.'*  l>ut  in  all  this  work  the  sins  of 
the  times  and  the  profligacy  of  the  j)eriod  are  dwelt  upon,  antl, 
seemingly,  the  prophets  haxe  little  strength  left  with  which  to 
picture  the  ideals  of  the  future.  Amos  preaches  sermon  after 
sermon  upon  the  text  "  Punishment  for  sin."5  He  publishes 
vision  after  vision,  all  of  which  foretell  the  coming  of  judgment 
and  destruction  upon  the  peoj)le."  His  pro[)hetic  eve,  however, 
sees  beyond  the  coming  of  the  Assyrian  army  and  the  devasta- 
tion which  it  shall  work,  and  in  the  far  distant  future  he  l)eholds 
the  tent  of  David  which  has  been  broken  down,  again  restored;" 
the  holy  land  full  of  harvests  and  conse(|uent  ])rosperit\-,  Israel 
gathered  again  from  the  four  corners  of  the  earth  and  restored 
to  home.  Hosea  sees  asclearU"  as  did  Amos  the  coming  destruc- 
tion ;^  he  sees  also  what  has  not  been  seen  so  clearly  before,  the 
intense  love  of  Jehovah  for  his  peo|)le  and  his  readiness  to  for- 
give.9  Hosea  feels  that  punishment  must  come  on  account  of 
the  iniquitN'  of  the  times  ;  but  after  this  punishment  has  been 
executed,  he  beholds,  as  did  Amos,  the  restoration  ol  Israel  to  her 
land.'°  In  all  this  j)eriod  there  has  been  slight  thought  of  the 
(leli\irance  from  sin,  because  the  minds  of  the  j)eople  are  filletl 
with  the  thought  and  the  need  of  the  deliverance  from  an  imme- 
diate calamity.  This  idea  is  so  close  as  to  (\\'\\c  a\\a\  the  mag- 
nificent conceptions  of  earlier  days.      On  the  other  hand,  it  must 

'  I  K^.s.  17,  iS,  ig.  ■<Juiiali,i    ).  7  Amos  t) :  1 1    15. 

'2Kgs.  3,4,5.  SAnuKS  i-O.  '  llosca  4  :  1    K);  S  :  1    ij 

3  2  Kgs.  2,4,6.  *Ain()S7,X,  ().  9llosca2:  14   23;    n:  i    ii- 

"'  Ilosua  1  :  10   2  :  I  ;   2  :  K)   22;  ()  :  1    3  ;    14  :   I    5. 


FORESHADOWINGS  OF  THE  CHRIST.  405 

be  noted  that  restoration  of  Israel  from  captivity  is  in  itself  a 
pledge  of  the  fulfilment  of  Jehovah's  promise,  and  to  this  extent 
the  foreshadowing  of  the  great  future  which  lies  beyond. 

4.  The  Assyrian  times  have  at  last  arrived.  Isaiah  predicts 
the  desolation  of  Israel,  and  indicates  the  sins  of  the  people, 
which  are  the  occasion  of  the  impending  destruction.  Yet, 
beyond  this  destruction,  both  he  and  Micah  see  the  exaltation 
of  the  mountain  of  Jehovah's  house,  the  universal  acknowledg- 
ment of  Jehovah  as  king,  and  the  introduction  of  an  era  of 
universal  peace. ^  When  Judah  is  invaded  by  Pekah  and  Rezin, 
Isaiah  announces  the  coming  of  a  child  born  of  a  virgin,  whose 
name  shall  be  called  Immanuel;  ^  and  before  this  child  shall  be 
able  to  distinguish  good  and  evil,  the  Assyrian  invasion  will  have 
taken  place.  Somewhat  later,  when  Tiglathpileser  carries  away 
captive  the  tribes  of  Zebulon  and  Naphtali,  and  the  people  of 
Jerusalem  are  panic-stricken  because  of  this,  the  beginning  of 
the  fulfilment  of  the  prophecies  of  destruction,  Isaiah  preaches ^ 
the  coming  of  light  in  the  midst  of  darkness;  of  joy  and 
freedom,  instead  of  grief  and  captivity;  of  the  abolition  of 
war;  and  all  this  because  of  the  child  that  is  yet  to  be  born, 
whose  name  is  given  as  the  Wonder  of  a  Counselor,  God  of  a 
Hero,  Father  of  Booty,  Prince  of  Peace.  Samaria  falls 
(722  B.  C),  in  accordance  with  the  prediction  of  the  prophets; 
but  the  judgment  is  not  yet  finished.  Terrible  judgments  are 
yet  to  come,  but  they  will  be  followed  by  times  of  rejoicing,  in 
which  those  faithful  to  Jehovah  shall  no  more  be  ashamed.'* 

Sennacharib  now  (701  B.C.)  appears  in  Palestine.  Though 
the  army  is  near  at  hand,  the  prophet  tells  of  a  righteous  judge 
of  the  line  of  David  who  shall  rule  the  nation  in  peace,  and  in 
the  knowledge  of  Jehovah.  ^  Although  Hezekiah  surrenders  to 
the  Assyrian  army,^  Isaiah  repeats  his  prediction  that  the  enemy 
will  be  scattered,  and  describes  the  time  when  the  righteous  man 
shall  see  the  king  in  all  his  beauty,  and  shall  dwell  with  him  in 
Zion.7     The  Assyrian  army  is  smitten  with  death  and  Jerusalem 

'  Isa.  2  :  2-4,  Mic.  4  :  I-5  ;   Isa.  4  :  2-6. 

^Isa.  7:1-25.  -t  Isa.  28.  62  Kgs.  18  :  14. 

3  Isa.  8:  16-9:7.  5  Isa.  10  :  5-12  : 6.  ?  Isa.  33. 


406  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD. 

delivered.'  On  the  days  that  follow  songs  of  joy  are  sung  to 
heaven,  celebrating  the  city  of  God  as  a  place  of  safety  and  peace 
for  the  people;  a  place  of  beauty  and  strength;  and  a  wonder  to 
nations.*  A  cornerstone  shall  be  established  in  Zion;^  and  out 
of  Bethlehem  from  the  line  of  David  shall  come  a  righteous 
ruler,  who  shall  lead  Judah  against  the  Assyrians. ■• 

As  before,  the  thought  of  the  nation  seems  to  have  ex- 
hausted itself  in  dwelling  upon  the  perplexities  of  the  day,  and  yet, 
in  contrast  with  the  dark  pictures  which  the  prophet  presents,  he 
portrays  the  brightness  of  the  coming  future.  Isaiah  expects  to 
see  the  coming  of  deliverance  in  connection  with  the  Assyrian 
invasion.  The  Assyrian  army  came  again  and  again,  and  the 
expectations  of  the  prophet  were  disappointed.  He  is  continu- 
ally looking  for  the  birth  of  a  child.  At  first,  in  the  days  of 
Ahaz,  when  he  predicts  the  birth  of  Immanuel,  and  later  the 
child,  whose  name  shall  be  called  Wonder  of  a  Counselor,  and, 
twenty-five  years  later,  in  the  days  of  Hezekiah,  when  Sennache- 
rib has  led  his  army  into  Judah.  Isaiah's  hopes  were  not  des- 
tined to  be  realized  in  his  own  days;  but  centuries  later,  when 
the  fulness  of  time  had  come,  the  child  was  born,  as  different 
from  the  picture  of  Isaiah's  child  as  was  the  actual  character  of 
the  king  in  comparison  with  the  jjicture  of  royalty  outlined  in 
David's  times.  The  thought,  however,  was  none  the  less  real; 
and  the  hope  of  the  coming  deliverance  lifted  up  many  a  fol- 
lower of  Jehovah  in  his  despondency. 

5.  The  next  age  is  that  of  Jeremiah  and  the  fall  of  Jerusalem. 
Zephaniah  sees  a  coming  destruction  and,  beyond  it,  restoration, 
prosperity,  and  honor. s  Jeremiah  is  so  occupied  with  the  evils  of 
his  times  and  his  own  sufferings  as  to  allow  little  time  for  the 
contemplation  of  the  future,  and  indeed  it  was  difficult  even  for 
a  prophet  of  Jehovah  to  see  much  that  was  encouraging  in  the 
future.  For  how  could  a  prophet  reconcile  himself  to  the 
destruction  of  Jerusalem  ?  And  yet  Jeremiah  is  able  to  do  this 
very  thing.  In  imprisonment  he  predicts  a  restoration  after  the 
captivity  and  describes  the  righteous  branch  which  shall   rule   in 

'  Isa.  37  :  36,  37.  3  Isa.  28  :  14-18;   I's.  1 18  :  22,  23. 

»  Pss.  46,  48.  ■•  M  ic.  5:1-0.  5  Zeph.  3  : 8-20. 


FORESHADOWINGS  OF  THE  CHRIST.  407 

righteousness.'  Under  arrest  he  promises  to  those  about  him 
relief  and  restoration  and  a  future  time  of  protection,  prosperity, 
and  honor. ^  He  preaches  of  the  establishment  of  a  new  cove- 
nant and  the  coming  of  a  time  when  all  men  shall  know  Jehovah. ^ 
As  truly  as  Jerusalem  shall  be  destroyed,  so  surely  shall  the  peo- 
ple of  Israel  be  restored, •♦  and  again  Jeremiah  furnishes  promises 
of  Messianic  glory. ^  When  Jerusalem  is  laid  waste,  there  devolves 
upon  the  prophet  the  task  of  reconciling  God's  promise  of  eter- 
nal prosperity  with  the  present  condition  of  things.  This  natu- 
rally leads  them  to  the  consideration  of  something  higher  than 
the  city  itself  ;  a  dwelling  with  God  more  ideal  than  an  actual 
dwelling  in  the  temple.^  The  place  of  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  in 
the  history  of  prophetic  thought  is  most  significant. 

6.  What  form  does  the  expectation  of  deliverance  assume 
when  Israel,  far  from  home  and  native  land,  finds  herself  in  the 
Babylonian  exile?  Ezekiel,  on  the  banks  of  the  Chebar,  tells 
again  and  again  of  restoration  of  the  faithful  Israel ;  ^  the  resur- 
rection of  dry  bones  ;  ^  the  reunion  of  the  northern  and  southern 
Israel.^  This  indeed  is  the  only  note  of  encouragement  which  a 
prophet  could  preach,  for  how  can  there  be  fulfilment  of  any 
of  the  promises  of  the  past  unless  first  Israel  is  restored  to  her 
native  land.  Can  we  put  ourselves  in  the  position  of  the  faith- 
ful Jews  in  captivity  ?  While  living  in  Jerusalem  before  its 
destruction,  they  were  loyal  to  the  worship  of  Jehovah,  hav- 
ing never  been  guilty  of  idolatry.  Yet,  notwithstanding  this 
faithfulness  on  their  part  they  are  now  in  captivity.  Their  suf- 
ferings are  intense  since  they  are  driven  away  from  home  and 
deprived  of  the  opportunity  to  worship  their  God.  Their  breth- 
ren, on  every  side,  reproach  them  because  of  the  inability  of  the 
God  whom  they  serve  to  relieve  their  sufferings.  Their  anguish 
is  increased  because  they  believe  this  suffering  to  have  been 
sent  upon  them  by  God.  Why  has  he  deserted  them  ?  Why 
has  he  driven  them  away  and  placed  them  in  the  power  of  their 
enemies  ?      Have    they    sinned    against    him  ?      No.     Why    was 

'Jer.  23  :  1-8.  ■♦Jer.  32.  7  Ezek.  1 1  :  14-20;   17:22-24. 

»Jer.  30  13-22.  5Jer.  33.  ^Ezek.  37  : 1-14. 

3jer.  31.  fiPss.  89,  132.  9Ezek.  37:  15-28. 


408  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD. 

their  jiroperty  dislributcd  to  their  enemies  ?  Had  thev  been 
faithless  to  Jehovah  ?  No.  What  then  is  the  occasion  of  their 
sufferings  ?  Tlie  sitis  of  tlic  /lafio/i  as  a  1k.']ioIc.  It  is  because 
Israel  abandoned  Jeho\ah  that  Israel  is  now  in  caj)ti\itv.  They 
are  then  suffering  because  of  the  sins  of  others  and  not  because 
of  their  own  sins.  The  Israelites  who  were  faithless  to  Jehovah 
suffer  little  on  account  of  the  captivity.  They  did  not  care  for 
the  temj)le  worship  or  Jcho\ah  ;  thev  are  well  situated  in  Baby- 
lon. Their  souls  are  not  tried  because  Jeho\ah  has  abandoned 
them,  since  they  had  first  abandoned  Jehovah.  The  real  suf- 
ferers are  those  who  were  faithful.  But  what  is  to  be  the  out- 
come ?  It  is  necessary  that  these  faithful  ones  continue  to  suf- 
fer with  those  who  have  sinned  and  because  of  their  sins,  in 
order  that  the  future  may  bring  a  fulfilment  of  the  great  prom- 
ises of  Jehovah.  If  in  their  distress  they  turn  away  from 
Jehovah,  there  will  be  no  remnant  to  whom  the  promise  may  be 
fulfilled.  They  suffer,  therefore,  in  order  to  secure  future  bless- 
ings to  those  who  shall  follow  them.  This  suffering  remnant  is 
the  servant  of  Jeho\ah  ;  the  agent  through  which  a  new  religion 
is  to  be  introduced  into  the  world.  The  nation  Israel  includes 
the  servant  and  is  sometimes  represented  as  the  servant.  The 
prophet  in  the  midst  of  the  captivity  jiredicts  that  this  ser\ant 
shall  be  exalted  very  high.'  He  realizes,  however,  that  preced- 
ing this  exalation  there  is  and  will  be  a  humilation.  The  servant 
sent  to  carry  to  the  world  the  message  of  its  deliv^erance  from 
sin  is  not  recognized,  since  no  one  belie\es  the  report  which  has 
been  given  of  him  and  no  one  sees  in  his  coming  the  indication 
of  the  power  ot  Jeho\ah.  Why  is  he  not  recognized?  Because 
he  has  grown  uj)  as  a  sucker,  that  is,  something  suj)erfluous  ;  as  a 
root  out  of  dr\'  ground,  that  is,  without  juice  or  sap;  with  no 
comeliness  or  beauty;  and  conse(iuentl\-  he  was  despised  and 
deserted.  This  was  the  estimation  in  which  he  was  held  by 
those  about  him  who  did  not  understand  his  mission.  The  real 
fact  in  the  case  was  that  he  suffered,  but  onl\-  for  the  sins  of 
others,  and  indeed,  for  the  sins  of  those  \v\\  persons  who,  in 
their  blindness,  regarded   him   as   stricken  with    icpiosx .      It  was 

■  Isa.  52  :  1 15.^  :I2. 


FORESHADOWINGS  OF  THE  CHRIST.  409 

the_v  who  had  gone  astra_y  while  on  him  the  iniquity  was  laid. 
In  all  this  suffering,  though  treated  rigorously,  there  was  no 
complaint.  Though  treated  unjustly,  his  contemporaries  did  not 
see  that  he  was  suffering  for  his  people.  His  end  was  an 
inglorious  one.  But  in  return  for  the  sufferings  of  the  servant, 
God  had  proposed  to  prolong  his  days  and  accomplish  through 
him  a  divine  work.  He,  the  servant,  will  render  many  righteous  ; 
he  will  receive  great  reward  ;  he  will  be  treated  as  a  conqueror. 
Thus  the  great  thought  of  the  exile  should  be  interpreted  ;  but 
the  return  and  the  restoration  of  spiritual  Israel  to  Jerusalem  as 
a  reward  of  faithfulness,  did  not  exhaust  the  thought ;  it  is  an 
ideal  description,  which  includes  the  suffering  servant  who,  cen- 
turies later,  was  to  do  for  all  men  and  all  time  what  the  faithful 
remnant  of  Israel  did  for  the  times  of  captivity. 

The  assurance  is  given  that  the  redemption  long  ago  prom- 
ised shall  surely  come.'  Israel,  in  spite  of  her  sins,  shall  be 
delivered,^  Jehovah  cannot  forget  Zion  ;  consequently  she  shall 
be  restored. 3  The  whole  present  situation  shall  be  changed  and 
the  future  will  bring  a  period  of  peace. "*  The  time  is  coming 
when  men  everywhere  will  accept  Jehovah  ;5  when  the  new  Jeru- 
salem will  be  adorned  and  decorated;^  when  there  will  be  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new  earth. ^  These  representations  show  conclu- 
sively that  the  prophets  have  detached  the  ideal  future  from  the 
local  Jerusalem.  The  new  era  which  Isaiah  expected  in  his  day, 
which  Jeremiah  predicted  would  come  at  the  close  of  the  seventy 
years  of  captivity,  is  not  ushered  in  with  the  restoration  of  the 
faithful  remnant  to  Jerusalem.  This  may  be  understood  as  a 
token  of  the  deliverance  still  in  the  future,  but  it  is  by  no  means 
the  deliverance  which  the  prophets  had  expected,  and  so  Daniel 
in  the  last  days  of  the  captivity  postpones  the  coming  of  this 
glorious  time  still  later  by  seventy  weeks. ^ 

7.  When,  under  Zerubbabel,  the  Jews  return  to  Jerusalem, 
work  is  begun  at  once  upon  the  temple.  But  after  laying  the 
foundation    it   stops.      Some    years   later,  urged  by   Haggai  they 

.    '  Isa.  45 : 21-25.  4lsa.  54: 1-17.  7 Isa.  65 :  17-25. 

^153.48:17-22.  5Isa.  56:6,  7.  ^Daii.g  :  24-27  ;  12  :  1-3,  10-13. 

3153.49:14-23.  *Isa.  62  : 1-12. 


pi 

1 

^^^^^^^H 

^^^^^^^H^ ' 

V  ^^H 

^^^^1 

^^^^HF^ 

r^H 

1        \      i 

IH^B  ^ 

.^'k 

BHI 

Fnitii  Munkacsv's  Christ  before  l'il;ilt' 


FORESHADOWINGS  OF  THE  CHRIST.  41 1 

take  up  again  the  building  of  the  temple  and  in  connection  with 
his  exhortations  Haggai  predicts  an  impending  shaking  of  the 
nations,  which  shall  mean  great  things  for  Israel.'  Zechariah, 
about  this  time,  describes  the  Jerusalem  of  the  future  in  contrast 
with  that  of  the  present,^  and  enlarges  upon  Jeremiah's  proph- 
ecies of  Israel's  king,  the  Branch. 3  It  is  in  these  later  days 
that  Joel,'*  filled  with  apocalyptic  vision  sees  a  time  in  the 
future  when  Jehovah  will  pour  out  his  spirit  uj^on  all  flesh  and 
all  men  will  become  prophets. 

In  connection  with  this  he  predicts  the  destruction  of  all  the 
nations  who  oppose  Jehovah, s  and  even  of  Israel  herself,  in  so 
far  as  she  does  not  conform  to  the  divine  law.  The  Psalms  of 
the  later  period  deal  most  fondly  with  the  coming  of  Jehovah  in 
judgment,*"  the  manifestation  of  his  presence  and  his  power;^  a 
coming  which  will  bring  prosperity  to  those  who  love  him,  and  a 
judgment  day  for  the  nations  who  are  opposed  to  him.^  But 
Malachi,  closing  the  long  list  of  prophets,  announces  the  com- 
ing of  a  second  Elijah  who  shall  foretell  the  coming  of  a  mes- 
senger of  the  cov^enant  whose  coming  shall  be  a  day  of 
destruction  to  the  wicked  and  a  day  of  blessing  to  the  righteous.^ 

When  now  we  consider  the  history  of  Israel  as  a  whole,  a 
history  especially  conducted  by  Jehovah,  ( i )  in  order  to  build 
up  a  people  in  the  knowledge  of  himself  that  through  them 
higher  and  higher  truth  might  be  revealed  to  the  world;  (2)  in 
which  great  and  significant  events  take  place,  furnishing  the 
object  lessons  for  the  inculcation  of  these  important  teachings, 
we  cannot  fail  to  recall  how,  again  and  again,  the  inspired 
speakers  refer  to  the  conflict  of  mankind  with  evil,  announcing 
that  in  the  end  mankind  shall  conquer.  In  whom  did  all  these 
representations  find  their  fulfilment?  Who,  once  for  all,  gained 
the  victory  over  sin?  We  recall  the  utterance  after  utterance 
concerning  the  day  that  Jehovah  shall  appear  among  men.  This 
coming  is  always  in  the  future  and  will  be  attended  with  bless- 
ings to  those  who   love  him,  with   destruction  to  those  who  have 

'  Hag.  2: 1-9,  21-23.  '•Joel  2:28,  29.  7Ps.  95. 

'Zech.  2: 1-13.  s  Joel  2:  30-3:  21.  ^  Pss.  98,  99,  100,  85. 

3  Zech.  3:6-10.  *Ps.  97.  9  Mai.  3. 


412  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

opj)o.sed  hini.  When  has  he  ajjpeared  exce])t  in  the  ])resencc  of 
his  son.  Jesus  Christ?  We  notice  also  the  \ivid  ])()rtravals  of 
the  thiv  of  Jeho\ah,  a  cla\'  of  darkness  and  distress  when  hostile 
nations  shall  be  punished  and  the  ])eoplc  of  God  redeemed. 
Docs  this  find  its  fulfilment  in  an\thing  else  than  the  new 
regime  which  Christ  inaugurated  r  We  recall  the  beautiful 
descriptions  of  the  FIolv  Land,  as  it  shall  be  in  the  future,  where 
there  shall  be  no  death,  no  sorrow;  when  man  shall  be  at  peace 
with  man  and  man  with  beast;  when  harvests  shall  be  plentiful 
and  exervthing  prosjjerous;  when  Jerusalem  shall  be  the  great 
cit\-  of  the  world.  We  recall  how  these  descriptions  enter  into 
the  pictures  presented  to  us  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  we  may 
ask  ourselves  whether  the  world  has  yet  seen  the  fulfilment  of 
these  |)redictions,  or  whether  they  are  still  to  come  as  the  out- 
growth of  the  New  Testament  dispensation,  a  spiritual  land  and 
a  spiritual  kingdom.  We  have  noted,  likewise,  how  in  the  di\'ine 
plan  the  nation  was  guided  and  instructed  bv  three  orders  of 
men,  each  of  which  in  its  representations  from  centiu')'  to  cen- 
tury foreshadows  a  Christ  who  shall  be  at  the  same  time  priest, 
and  prophet,  and  king. 

When  we  remember  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  Messianic 
prophecy  in  an\'  literature  of  ancient  times  except  the  literature 
of  the  Old  Testament,  and  when  we  consider  the  definiteness 
and  gradual  growth  of  the  full  j)resentation  of  Messianic  jiroph- 
ecy  which  furnishes  the  connecting  link,  from  generation  to 
generation,  for  the  whcjle  histor\-  and  literature  of  Israel,  we 
may  not  doubt  that  in  all  this  there  has  Ijeen  e.xerteil  an  intluence 
for  the  execution  of  a  di\ine  j)lan. 


THE  TIMES  OF   CHRIST. 


5y  Rev.  Professor   H.  M.  Scott,  D.D., 
Chicago  Theological  Seminary. 


The  fulness  of  times — the  Holy  Land — People  —  Social  State — Back- 
ground of  poverty —  Idea  of  the  ki)igdoin  —  Pharisaic  theology  —  Messiajiic 
hope  —  Religious  life  in  Israel — fezus  in  the  Dispersio7i  —  Forerunners  of 
Christianity — Phild's  teachings —  The  Gentile  world —  Tirne  of  Revolution  — 
Social,  political,  philosophical,  religious — The  empire  preparing  the  way  of 
the  Gospel. 

"When  the  fulness  of  the  time  came,  God  sent  forth  his  Son  " 
(Gal.  4:4).  That  does  not  mean  that  Christ  was  a  product  of 
religious  development  in  Israel.  Neither  does  it  mean  that  his- 
toric circumstances  created  the  Redeemer  of  men.  The  fulness 
of  time  means  the  fulness  of  human  need  on  the  one  hand,  and 
ripeness  of  historical  preparation  on  the  other.  The  earl)-  church 
loved  to  speak  of  the  Jews  as  the  people  of  salvation  through 
whom  God  prepared  a  religion  for  the  world,  and  the  Greeks  as 
the  men  of  philosophy,  through  whom  God  prepared  the  world 
for  the  religion.  The  appointed  hour  had  struck  in  both  Judaism 
and  Hellenism.  Had  Christ  appeared  in  the  Maccabean  age  of 
worldly  prosperity,  or  before  Macedonian  conquests  in  the  East 
and  Roman  power  in  the  West  had  checked  Persia  and  Carthage 
by  humanitarianism  and  law,  we  cannot  see  how  he  could  have 
fulfilled  his  mission  to  Israel,  or  his  gospel  found  an  entrance  to 
the  Gentile  world.  Had  he  not  appeared  till  after  Jerusalem  fell 
and  the  temple  was  overthrown,  and  the  confusion  of  pagan  cults, 
caused  bv  the  rise  of  the  Empire  and  skeptical  Greek  criticism, 
had  been  succeeded  by  the  revived,  united  paganism  and  learned 
orthodoxy  of  the  age  of  the  Antonines,  he  could  not  have  taken 
his  place  as  fulfiUer  of  law  and  sacrifices,  neither  could  the 
apostles  have  found  Jewish  synagogues  and  Greek  lecture  halls 
ready  to  receive  them.  His  advent  coincided  with  the  most  stu- 
pendous transition  in  ancient  history.  The  scepter  had  departed 
from    Judah,  to   pass   first  into   the   hands   of   Herodians,  of  the 

413 


414  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

family  of  Esau,  then  into  the  possession  of  Rome  ;  while  Rome 
was  just  moving  out  of  Republican  isolation  into  universal 
Imperialism.  Christ  was  born  under  the  first  emperor.  The 
world-wide  Empire  and  the  everlasting  Kingdom  appeared 
together.  With  Herod  the  Great,  the  political  life  of  Palestine 
had  become  utterlv  worldlv  and  lost  its  last  theocratic  vestige  ; 
while  in  Rome,  the  most  secular  of  all  places,  Caesar  claimed  to 
be  divine.  The  Jewish  high  priest  lost  his  crown  and  became 
a  tool  of  Herod.  The  Roman  Emperor  made  himself  also  high 
priest,  and  as  such  representative  of  Jupiter  and  a  god.  Between 
these  two  contending  ideas  —  the  efforts  of  Israel  to  defend  at 
all  costs  the  theocracy  of  Jehovah,  and  the  claim  of  Rome  to 
stand  in  her  Caesar  for  the  universal  cult — Jesus  came  to  full  con- 
sciousness of  his  high  calling  to  found  the  Kingdom  of  the  Divine 
Father  for  all  men. 

The  Jews  and  their  land  formed  a  unique  meeting  j)lace  for 
the  exclusiveness  of  a  people  of  revelation  and  redemption  with 
the  reason  and  superstition  of  the  world  jjowers.  They  were 
shut  in  by  the  sea,  the  desert,  the  mountains,  and  the  deep  ravines 
of  the  Jordan  ;  yet  they  lay  at  the  juncture  of  Europe,  Asia,  and 
Africa.  All  peoples  came  to  Israel.  And  when  the  time  came 
to  offer  the  revelation  through  Christ  to  the  world.  Apostles 
from  Judea  could  at  once  enter  every  avenue  of  ancient  life. 
With  all  his  seclusion  and  conservatism,  the  Jew  was  now  the 
most  cosmopolitan  of  men.  He  met  all  races  in  his  own  land; 
and  through  his  brethren  in  the  Dispersion  he  was  in  vital  rela- 
tions with  all  parts  of  the  world. 

Palestine  was  an  epitome  of  all  countries  antl  zones.  Its 
deep  valleys,  its  ])lains,  its  table  lands,  its  mountains,  jjresented 
the  temperature,  the  fruits,  the  landscapes  of  every  clime. 
Hence  the  Bible,  the  teachings  of  Jesus,  j)resent  universal  doc- 
trines in  scenery  and  imagery  familiar  to  all  men. 

The  Jews  of  the  land  in  Christ's  time  nuinhcrcd  about  five 
millions;  the  conservative,  aristtjcratic,  traditicjnal  part  living  in 
Judea  about  the  holy  city  Jerusalem  ;  and  the  more  free,  warm- 
hearted, j)atriotic,  but  less  cultured  ])art  occupying  the  rich  |)rov- 
ince  of  Galilee.      Between   tluni    lav   .Samaria,   in   whith  dwelt  a 


4l6  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD. 

half  Jewish,  half  Gentile  people,  who  formed  a  stepping-stone  for 
the  gospel  from  the  Jewish  to  the  Roman  world  (Acts  8  :  5f.). 
Trade,  commerce,  dve-works,  ])otteries,  glass  furnaces,  fisheries, 
agriculture  flourished  in  the  fertile  fields  and  numerous  towns  of 
Galilee.  It  was  surely  not  accidental  that  the  chief  scene  of 
Christ's  preaching,  the  cities  along  the  Lake  of  Tiberias,  was  a 
hi\'e  of  industry,  in  which  he  met  "  Fullers'  Unions,"  "Ass 
Drivers'  Associations,"  "  Fishermen's  Clubs,"  and  taught  the 
Gospel  of  the  Kingdom  in  \ital  contact  with  the  com])licated 
problems  of  business  life.  Here,  too,  he  mingled  much  with  the 
free  country  life  of  sowers  and  tares,  reapers  and  harvest  fields, 
mustard  seed  and  fig  trees,  hens  and  chickens,  she})herd  and  flock, 
which  made  his  words  so  winsome  to  the  common  people.  In 
Judea,  on  the  other  hand,  he  came  in  contact  with  Scribe  and 
Pharisee,  a  highly  organized  life,  the  temple  and  priests,  money- 
changers and  questions  about  tribute  to  Caesar. 

One  sad  thing,  which  especially  impressed  Jesus  as  running 
through  all  the  secular  existence  of  his  j)eople,  was  the  growing 
misery  and  deepening  poverty  which  he  met  on  every  hand.  It 
is  hardly  too  much  to  say  that  the  background  of  all  his  preach- 
ing was  business  depression,  panic,  and  jioverty.  Herod  the  Great 
exacted  about  $3,000,000  a  year  from  the  j)eople.  The  Roman 
procurators  were  ecjuallv  extortionate.  Besides  this  revenue,  there 
were  many  local  taxes,  religious  dues,  and  the  irregular  levies  of 
procurat(M-s,  zealots,  and  the  increasing  plunder  seized  by  robbers 
and  outlaws.  Business  became  more  and  more  interrujited,  and 
want,  with  growing  frequency,  showed  its  emaciated  features. 
How  often  Jesus  speaks  of  the  debtor  going  to  prison,  the  cred- 
it(jr  discounting  bills,  the  man  who  could  not  finish  a  tower  for 
lack  of  funds,  the  poor  widow,  usury  because  ot  scarcity  of 
money,  men  standing  idle  in  the  market,  or  hiding  their  little 
wealth  from  robbing  exactors,  and  multitudes  so  li\ing  on  the 
edge  of  starvation  that  Jesus  fed  them  miraculously.  The  com- 
mon cry  was:  "What  shall  we  eat?"  Hence  the  first  petition 
taught  the  disciples  was:  "Give  us  this  (-la\-  our  daily  l)read  ;  " 
and  the  first  utterance  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  was  :  "  HU-ssed 
are  the  ])oor." 


THE   TIMES  OE  CHRIST  4^7 

Largely  from  this  point  of  view,  the  practical  shaping  of  the 
kingdom  arose  in  his  mind.  He  knew  of  the  zealot  insurrec- 
tion of  his  Galilean  fellow  countr3'men,  Judas  and  Zadok,  and 
saw  how  they  that  drew  the  sword  in  a  religious  war  perished 
by  the  sword.  He  grew  up  in  an  atmosphere  of  anarchy  and 
theocratic  socialism.  The  vision  before  his  brethren  was  of  a 
kingdom  of  David,  of  glory  and  riches  and  victory  and  power. 
But  he  turned  away  from  the  zealot  conce})tion.  He  passed  by 
even  the  Davidic  kingdom.  He  preached  a  spiritual  dominion 
for  the  poor  in  spirit,  whose  triumphs  were  in  repentance,  faith, 
and  being  perfect  as  the  King,  the  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect. 

The  theological  thought  of  the  Jews  in  the  time  of  Christ  was 
molded  by  the  Pharisees.  All  the  people  except  two  or  three 
thousand  Sadducees,  a  few  free  thinkers  called  Herodians,  and 
some  small  groups  of  mvstics,  especially  the  Essenes,  were  Phari- 
saic in  belief.  The  center  of  this  theology  was  the  schools  of  the 
Scribes,  and  an  outgrowth  of  these  schools  was  the  Fraternity  of 
the  Pharisees,  an  order  of  about  six  thousand  men,  in  four 
degrees,  bound  together  bv  the  special  vows  of  tithes  and  cere- 
monial purifications.  They  were  the  Jewish  Jesuits,  the  official 
saints,  who  both  taught  the  law  and  showed  how  it  should  be 
kept.  Jesus  did  not  object  to  their  teachings  ;  it  was  rather  their 
practice  that  he  denounced.  These  men  in  Moses'  seat,  as  they 
opposed  surrounding  idolatry,  and  set  themselves  to  systematic 
study  of  the  Scriptures,  even  advanced  beyond  the  cruder 
theology  of  the  post-exilic  days,  and  made  prominent  some  doc- 
trines which  Jesus  approved.  There  were  four  ruling  ideas  in 
this  Pharisaic  system  which  the  gospel  made  fully  fruitful. 
They  were  those  of  the  transcendence  of  Jehovah,  the  individual 
rather  than  the  national  relation  of  man  to  God,  the  Law  as  the 
way  to  please  the  Lord,  and  the  hope  of  the  Messiah  as  the 
rewarder  of  those  who  obey  the  Law.  From  the  point  of  view 
that  God  is  our  Father  and  his  law  is  love,  Jesus  gave  this  circle 
of  thought  a  new  center,  from  which  it  received  new  illumina- 
tion and  the  power  of  an  endless  life.  The  great  defect  of 
Pharisaic  theology  was  its  legalism,  which  made  all  religious  life, 
even  sacrifices  and  prayers,  good  works,  for  which   man   expects 


4l8  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

a  reward.  Such  teachings  were  ])essimistic,  for  all  men  are  con- 
scious that  perfection  is  impossible  ;  the  schools  of  Hillel  and 
Shammai  accordingly  debated  whether  or  not  life  were  worth 
living,  and  the  Assembly  of  the  Scribes  decided  in  the  negative, 
but  advised  men  to  do  the  best  they  can  since  they  are  here. 

Pharisaic  views  of  the  Messiah  were  not  certain.  They  could 
not  reconcile  the  two  j)ictures  given  of  him  as  the  Servant  of  the 
Lord  and  a  glorious  King  in  the  Old  Testament.  Thev  had  no 
idea  of  two  Advents,  and  thougrht  thev  meant  either  two  Mes- 
siahs  or  the  Messiah  in  conflict  with  enemies  and  his  triumph 
over  them.  He  was  prcexistent,  but  apparently  only  in  the  plan 
of  God.  They  had  no  thought  of  the  Messiah  as  dying  for  the 
sins  of  men.  He  was  not  divine.  The  Pharisees  did  not  put 
Jesus  to  death  for  claiming  to  be  the  Messiah  ;  but  because  he 
claimed  to  be  the  Son   of  God  and  equal  with  God  (John  19:7). 

In  the  Golden  Age  of  the  Maccabees,  hope  in  the  com- 
ing Deliverer  grew  very  dim  ;  but  the  terrible  days  of  civil  war, 
of  Herod  and  Rome,  appeared  to  many  as  the  "birth  pangs"  of 
the  Messiah.  In  the  time  of  Jesus,  the  mass  of  the  people  looked 
for  the  Messiah.  The  godly  in  Israel  also,  through  the  study  of 
the  prophets,  came  to  have  higher  conceptions  of  the  coming 
One.  The  wider  horizon  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  world  helped 
them  to  think  of  him  as  ruler  of  all  nations,  and  not  of  the  Jews 
only.  They  thought  of  his  work  as  spiritual  rather  than  as  that 
of  a  warrior  king.  He  was  more  closely  associated  with  Jehovah. 
The  ethical  character  of  his  kingdom  was  given  greater  promi- 
nence ;  the  sinless  Messiah  must  rule  over  a  holy  people.  Man's 
relation  to  him  was  made  more  personal  and  less  national.  In 
general,  we  may  add,  that  cverv  Israelite  saw  in  the  Messiah  his 
ideal,  and  c.\j)ected  to  find  in  his  kingdom  just  that  blessedness 
which  would  realize  his  e.xjjcctation  of  heaven. 

The  religious  life  in  Israel  suffered  much  from  the  state  of 
chronic  insurrection  into  which  the  land  lell  in  the  time  of  Jesus. 
It  is  true  the  forms  remained.  The  Jews  i)rayed  in  j)rivate  morn- 
ing and  night.  They  had  rainilv  \\drship  three  times  a  day. 
They  said  grace  before  and  altc  r  nuat.  Tlu\  krjit  the  .Sabbath 
strictlv.      Thev   were   cartful    to    be    cerenioniallv    clean.       They 


THE  TIMES  OF  CHRIST.  419 

attended  synagogue  worship  on  Sabbath  and  once  through  the 
week.  They  observed  the  festivals.  They  offered  sacrifices  in 
the  temple.  They  were  zealous  to  make  proselytes.  But,  despite 
all  this,  the  love  of  many  had  waxed  cold  ;  legalism  and  world- 
liness  were  benumbing  many  a  soul.  Especially  did  earnest  men 
complain  of  neglect  in  the  proper  education  of  children.  Not  a 
few  Pietists,  Apocalyptic  men,  like  the  Essenes,  withdrew  from  pub- 
lic life.  The  high  priests  and  other  Sadducee  leaders  of  the  nation 
were  venal  and  corrupt.  The  zealots,  who  were  most  earnest, 
seemed  smitten  with  judicial  blindness,  and  dragged  the  nation 
after  them  into  civil  strife  and  utter  ruin.  The  Pharisees  vacil- 
lated, now  for  Rome,  now  trying  to  be  neutral,  now  favoring  the 
zealots,  till  blind  leaders  of  the  blind  thev  fell  into  the  ditch  of 
common  despair  and  death. 

We  must  now  glance  at  the  Jews  beyond  Palestine.  They 
were  found  everywhere,  and  fell  into  two  great  divisions,  the 
Babylonian  and  the  Greek  Dispersion.  They  were  wealthier, 
more  progressive,  more  liberal  than  their  brethren  in  Palestine. 
In  fact  the  Jew  of  the  Dispersion  was  ver)-  analogous  to  the 
Roman.  The  national  life  of  each  centered  in  a  city,  but  both 
in  a  peculiar  sense  were  "citizens  of  the  world"  as  were  no 
others.  Both  in  their  religion  became  largely  denationalized  and 
strove  to  show  a  universal  cult.  But  exiled  Judaism  by  losing 
its  body  politic  became  a  wandering  soul ;  while  Rome  in  building 
up  a  great  corporate  system  lost  her  soul.  But  the  disembodied 
Jewish  spirit  and  the  inanimate  Roman  body  politic,  guarded  by 
Caesar,  could  not  unite,  for  Israel  had  rejected  her  Messiah, 
through  whom  in  due  time  the  Empire  became  an  organ  of  Chris- 
tian life.  This  Judaism  in  the  Dispersion  was  the  most  impor- 
tant forerunner  of  Christianity  in  the  heathen  world.  The  foreign 
Jews  had  largely  the  rights  of  citizenship.  They  enjoyed  reli- 
gious liberty.  They  were  about  as  numerous  as  those  in  Palestine, 
In  Alexandria  they  formed  one-fifth  of  the  population.  In  many 
places  they  were  rich  and  held  important  public  offices.  They 
were  bound  together,  amid  dissolving  paganism,  by  their  faith  in 
one  God,  their  union  of  morality  with  religion,  their  Greek  Bible, 
their  doctrine  of  creation,  which  rejected   materialism   and   pan- 


420  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

theism,  the  Sabbath,  the  synagogue,  family  deyotion,  and  the 
hope  of  the  Messiah,  who  was  the  embodiment  of  all  that  Greek 
wisdom  belieycd  or  longed  for. 

The  experience  of  this  Jewish  Dispersion  anticipated  largely 
that  of  the  Christian  church.  Josephus  in  his  reply  to  A])ion 
answers  the  same  pagan  attacks  which  Athenagoras  and  Justin 
must  meet.  The  seryiccs  of  the  Greek  synagogues  were  essen- 
tially repeated  in  the  Gentile  churches.  But  especially  in  mission 
work  and  winning  conyerts  from  paganism  did  the  Jews  of  the 
Dispersion  open  the  way  for  Christianity.  Greek  Jews,  like 
Stephen  and  Apollos,  and  proselytes  to  Greek  Judaism,  "the  hon- 
orable women,"  were  among  the  first  converts  to  the  gospel. 
There  were  many  converts  in  the  Greek  synagogues,  chiefly 
women.  Not  a  few  were  of  high  rank,  as  the  wife  of  Nero,  the 
eunuch  of  Candace,  and  the  kings  of  Azizus  and  Emesa.  The 
attractions  of  Greek  Judaism  were  its  mission  zeal,  which  blazed 
out  especially  in  the  time  of  Christ,  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy, 
the  exalted  teachings  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  the  tact  and 
learning  with  which  Jewish  teachers  set  forth  the  great  doctrines 
of  God,  virtue,  immortality,  which  heathen  sages  built  upon 
reason,  as  resting  upon  divine  revelation.  The  contidence  of 
Judaism  in  its  faith,  and  the  practical  fruits  in  pure  family  life, 
and  holy  worshijj  also  impressed  thoughtful  heathen. 

Es])ecially  did  the  theology  of  the  Greek  Jews,  as  rci)resented 
by  Philo,  prei)are  the  way  for  New  Testament  thought.  The 
])roblem  of  defending  Homer,  the  Bible  of  the  Greeks,  from 
critical  attacks  was  solved  by  the  allegorical  theory  of  exegesis. 
Philo  aj)plied  this  to  the  Old  Testament  and  made  Moses  the 
source  of  the  philosophy  of  Greece.  lie  taught  an  exoteric  and 
an  esoteric  Judaism,  which  reall\-  landed  him  in  rationalism.  The 
real  teachings  of  Scripture  were  just  the  tleductions  ot  reason. 
His  most  suggestive  doctrine  was  that  of  the  Logos,  which  he 
called  "high-priest,"  and  "eldest  .Son  of  (lod."  This  divine 
reason  of  the  Greeks  he  matle  a  re\ealer  and  mediator  ol  Jehovah, 
especially  of  His  justice  and  mercy.  There-  is  no  doubt  that  these 
ideas  of  I'hilo  innuciiccd  thr  form  of  earl\-  ("hristian  thought  ;  but 
how  far  he  was  from  the  position  of  the  gospel  can  i)e  seen  in  the 


THE   TIMES  OF  CHRIST.  42  I 

fact  that  his  Logos  had  no  connection  with  the  Messiah,  was 
impersonal,  was  a  cosmological  principle,  and  led  to  natural  the- 
ology, while  the  New  Testament  makes  Christ  the  Logos  and  is 
everywhere  soteriological  and  religious. 

Let  us  now  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  great  heathen  world. 
Here  the  coming  of  Christ  was  marked  by  revolution —social, 
political,  philosophical,  religious  —  a  revolution  which  shook  the 
foundations  of  all  ancient  life  and  thought.  Men  felt  things 
were  so  bad  that  a  change  must  come.  Great  Pan  was  declared 
to  be  dead.  The  Romans  were  looking  for  the  age  of  Saturn  to 
come  again.  The  rapid  growth  of  Greek  Judaism,  and  early 
Christianity  shows  the  unrest  of  the  times. 

The  social  changes  which  came  with  the  Empire  were  stupen- 
dous. The  conquered  races  were  greatly  mixed.  Of  a  popula- 
tion of  120,000,000  half  had  been  reduced  to  slavery.  Civil 
wars  and  standing  armies  took  the  farmers  out  of  the  army,  out 
of  politics,  and  made  them  but  tenants  on  large  estates,  or  drove 
them  into  the  cities.  These  slaves  away  from  home,  these  demor- 
alized farmers,  formed  a  fruitful  field  for  the  gospel,  which  was 
first  preached  to  the  poor  in  Palestine.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
cities  were  full  of  wealth,  business,  and  blending  of  races,  equally 
favoring  the  reception  of  new  ideas  in  religion. 

The  political  change  from  Rome  a  city  to  Rome  an  Empire  was 
also  far-reaching.  Legislation  widened  from  "municipal  law" 
to  the  "law  of  nations"  and  then  to  the  "law  of  nature."  Rome 
must  make  laws  for  man  as  man.  This  transition  suggested  the 
idea  of  human  brotherhood,  taught  toleration,  brought  in  safety 
under  law,  and,  by  robbing  men  of  political  liberty,  led  them  to 
seek  a  substitute  in  moral  questions  and  the  freedom  of  the  soul. 
Thus  thinking  men  were  forced  to  dwell  upon  the  very  problems 
which  looked  towards  Christianity. 

This  appears  in  the  philosophy  of  the  time.  It  was  marked 
especially  by  three  things.  It  was  eclectic,  ethical,  and  sought 
certainty  in  revelation  from  God.  Every  man's  conscience  was 
the  final  arbiter;  just  the  position  of  St.  Paul  (Rom.  3:14). 
This  later  philosophy  especially  looked  towards  the  gospel,  by 
showing  the   inability  of  pagan  wisdom   to   satisfy   the   soul,  bv 


422  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

developing  a  sense  of  individualism  —  as  the  Pharisees  had  done 
—  which  led  towards  personal  life  in  God,  by  teaching  monothe- 
ism, and  the  spiritual  immanence  of  God,  bv  holding  the  unity 
of  mankind  —  Ei)ictetus  said:  "We  are  all  God's  children" — 
and  by  presenting  the  life  of  virtue  as  a  long  development,  with 
immortality,  the  restoration  of  the  "image  of  God"  (Diogenes), 
as  its  final  reward.  But  the  more  practical  this  philosophy 
became  the  more  it  felt  its  own  weakness  as  it  saw  the  moral 
life  of  the  Empire  growing  worse  and  worse  ;  and  the  more  it 
longed,  and  prayed  for  a  revelation  from  God.  The  fulness  of 
times  was  here  also  a  fulness  of  need,  which  looked  towards 
Jesus  Christ. 

The  religious  revoluticMi  in  the  Empire  was  ecjuallv  striking. 
It  was  marked  first  of  all  in  the  generation  before  Christ  by  con- 
fusion of  gods  and  cults,  by  skepticism  among  the  educated,  and 
neglect  of  idolatry  by  the  people.  The  all-upsetting  unification 
of  the  Empire  sorely  demoralized  national  paganism.  But  in  the 
time  of  Christ  a  revival  of  religion  began.  Just  in  the  pause 
between  the  two  Christianity  appeared.  But  it  would  be  a  great 
mistake  to  say  the  gospel  spread  because  paganism  was  too  weak 
to  oppose  it.  Three  elements  in  this  revi\al  of  heathenism  may 
be  noticed.  First,  the  reforms  of  Augustus  and  the  introduction  of 
Caesar  worship  as  a  bond  of  union  between  contending  mythologies 
and  a  support  to  decaying  morals.  Second,  the  coming  in  of  Orien- 
tal cults  from  India  and  Syria.  These  gave  Western  religion  the 
priest  as  active  functionary,  taught  that  their  followers  formed  a 
holy  brotherhood,  gave  women  etjual  rights  with  men.  made  rich 
and  poor,  bond  and  free  welcome  as  members,  showed  tlie  coltl 
Roman  the  place  of  emotion  in  worship,  pointed  to  the  myster- 
ies as  the  heart  of  devotion,  offered  bloody  sacrifices  for  sin, 
taught  a  new  birth,  were  missionary  in  character,  and  loved  to 
tell  of  a  God  who  came  to  earth  as  a  man,  was  slain,  rose  again, 
and  went  about  teaching  the  true  religion.  It  is  no  wonder  early 
Christians  saw  in  sucli  things  a  Satanic  caricature  of  the  gospel. 
A  third  facttjr  in  this  revival  was  the  jjhilosophical,  to  which  we 
have  already  referred. 

This    unity  of   tiu'  I'.nipiri-  mU  oiil\-  pn-pared  for  Christianity 


THE  TIMES  OF  CHRIST.  423 

itself,  but  opened  up  channels  for  its  progress.  The  chief  of 
these  were  the  peace  which  prevailed,  Roman  highways,  spread 
of  the  Greek  language,  great  facility  of  intercourse  by  land  and 
sea,  freedom  given  Jews  in  the  Dispersion  and  their  numerous 
converts,  religious  tolerance,  and  the  recognition  of  benevolent 
and  burial  clubs,  under  guise  of  which  churches  could  often  live 
and  labor. 


THE  SOURCES  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


By   Ernest   D.    Burton, 
The  University  of  Chicago. 


The  o)ie  ultimate  souree  produced  various  mediate  sources,  aiiio)ig  which 
oitr  four  gospels  uoiu  hold  the  first  place. —  Tradition  coitcertiiiig  the  authorship 
of  our  gospels,  and  reasons  for  questioning  it. —  The  synoptic  problem:  its 
elements  ;  proposed  solutions  ;  propositions  practically  established. —  The  prob- 
lem of  the  fourth  gospel :    its  character;   various  views  ;  present  status. 

If  the  four  gospels  and  even  all  quotations  from  them  in 
printed  books  should  toda\-  absolutely  ])crish  from  the  earth,  it 
would  be  possible  to  recover  every  word  of  their  testimonv  con- 
cerning Jesus.  The  memories  of  living  men  constitute  a  treasure- 
house  from  which  a  life  of  Jesus  could  be  drawn  as  full  and  com- 
plete as  that  which  we  possess  today.  These  memories  rest,  of 
course,  almost  wholly  upon  the  written  gospels.  But  there  was 
a  time  when  there  existed  such  a  treasure  of  memories,  resting 
not  upon  books,  but  upon  the  historic  facts  themselves.  Back  of 
all  written  records  of  the  life  of  Jesus,  and  forming  the  basis  and 
source  of  all  such  records  lay  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  which  his 
disciples  and  friends  gained  by  personal  observation.  This 
knowledge  found  expression  in  various  literary  forms.  Many 
of  these  have  perished  ;  yet  enough  remain  so  that  even  without 
our  gosjjcls  it  wouhl  still  he  possible  to  gi\'e  a  trustworthy  his- 
torical account  of  Jesus.  The  Acts  and  epistles  of  the  New 
Testament  would  tell  us  manv  things,  and  those  too,  i)recisely 
the  most  imjiortanl  things.  A  "life  of  Jesus"  based  e.\clusi\-ely 
on  the  epistles  of  Paul,  or  even  exclusi\el\-  on  those  which  the 
severest  criticism  now  almost  imaniniousl\-  aeci-pts  as  genuine 
writings  of  the  aj)()stle.  would  be  nieagx  r  indeed  compared  with 
the  gosjiel  record,  yet  in  tlie  ai)seiice  of  the  gospels  would  be  an 
invaluable  gift  to  the  world.  Tin-  church  fathers  would  give  us 
something  not  only  of  that  which  lhe\-  derive  from  the  gosjjels. 
but  something  also  which  is  apparentU'  drawn  directly  from  the 
same  strt-am  of  li\'ing  tra<lition  from  wiiieh  the  gospels  also  dri'W 

424 


SOURCES  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS.  425 

a  little  nearer  to  its  source.  Even  secular  writers,  Suetonius, 
Josephus,  and  Tacitus  add  a  sentence  or  two  of  value. 

Yet  all  these  witnesses,  invaluable  in  the  absence  of  the  gos- 
pels, become  in  their  presence  secondarv  sources  for  the  life  of 
Jesus.  None  of  them,  nor  all  of  them  together  —  can,  except 
from  some  special  point  of  vjew,  be  compared  with  the  gospels 
themselves,  if  only  we  are  assured  that  in  these  latter  we  have 
trustworthy  historical  witnesses.  Who  then  were  the  authors  of 
these  books  and  what  opportunity  had  they  for  acquiring  informa- 
tion ?  As  the  books  stand  today  in  the  New  Testament,  and  as 
they  stand  in  all  manuscripts  and  versions,  even  the  oldest,  they 
bear  respectively  the  names  of  two  apostles  and  two  companions 
of  apostles.  If  these  four  men  relate  independently  what  they 
themselv^es  heard  and  saw  of  the  life,  deeds,  teachings,  death, 
resurrection,  ascension  of  Jesus,  the  question  of  the  sources  of 
the  life  of  Jesus  is  practically  answered  :  we  have  in  these  four 
books  the  testimony  of  four  eyewitnesses.  Granted  only  their 
honesty,  one  could  scarcely  ask  for  more. 

But  several  facts  that  can  be  learned  with  but  little  obser- 
vation raise  the  question,  not  indeed  of  the  honesty  of  the 
writers,  but  whether  these  books  reall}'  profess  or  undertake  to 
give  the  direct  testimony  of  these  authors  to  what  they  them- 
selves witnessed.  In  the  first  place,  there  are  related  some  events 
which  can  hardly  have  been  within  the  scope  of  observation  even 
of  apostles.  This  is  conspicuously  true  of  the  narratives  of  the 
infancy.  And  when  we  come  to  the  two  gospels  which  bear  the 
names  not  of  apostles,  but  of  companions  of  apostles,  we 
must  recognize  that  we  have  no  knowledge  that  they  were 
eyewitnesses  of  any  of  the  events  of  the  life  of  Jesus. 
But  we  do  not  need  to  argue  wholly  from  our  ignorance. 
The  preface  of  Luke  is  quite  decisive  as  respects  his  book. 

Forasmuch  as  many  have  taken  in  hand  to  draw  up  a  narrative  con- 
cerning those  matters  which  have  been  fulfilled  among  us,  even  as  they 
delivered  them  unto  us,  which  from  the  beginning  were  eyewitnesses  and 
ministers  of  the  word,  it  seemed  good  to  me  also,  having  traced  the  course 
of  all  things  accurately  from  the  first,  to  write  unto  thee  in  order,  most 
excellent  Theophilus,  that  thou  mightest  know  the  certainty  concerning  the 
things  wherein  thou  wast  instructed. 


426 


THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD. 


These  words  make  it  cjuite  clear  that  the  autlior  of  the  third 
gospel  distinguished  himself  from  those  who  "  from  the  begin- 
ning were  eyewitnesses  and  ministers  of  the  word."  Mark  has 
left  no  such  testimony  respecting  himself,  but  Papias,  the  earliest 
Christian  writer,  aside  from  Luke  himself,  from  whom  we  have 
any  statement  about  the  origin  of  the  gospels,  is  authority  for 
the  statement  that  John  the  presbyter  said  : 

Mark,  having  become  Peter's  interpreter,  wrote  accurately  the  things 
that  were  either  said  or  done  by  the  Christ,  as  far  as  he  remembered  them, 
not,  however,  in  order.  For  neither  did  he  hear  the  Lord,  nor  did  he  follow 
him  ;  but  afterward,  as  I  said  [he  followed],  Peter,  who  adapted  his  teaching 
to  the  needs  [of  the  occasion],  but  not  as  if  he  were  making  a  systematic 

arrangement  of  the  words  of  the  Lord 

To  these  two  important  statements,  that  of  Luke  respecting 
himself  and  that  of  Papias  respecting  Mark,  let  there  now  be 
added  an  important  fact  of  internal  eyidence.  An  attentiye 
reading  of  our  first  three  gospels  reveals  the  fact  that  in  certain 
parts  they  closely  resemble  one  another,  not  only  in  relating  the 
same  events  or  reporting  the  same  sayings  of  Jesus,  but  in 
employing  almost  identically  the  same  words.  Two  brief  exam- 
ples will  illustrate  the  fact,  the  full  extent  of  which  can  be 
perceived  only  by  a  careful  comparison  and  study  of  the  three 
gospels  throughout.  Take  one  example  from  discourse  material. 
Ye  offspring  of  vij)crs,  who  warned  Ye  offspring  of  vipers,  who  warned 


you  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  ? 
Bring  forth  therefore  fruit  worthy  of 
repentance :  and  think  not  to  say 
within  yourselves.  We  have  Abraham 
to  our  father :  for  I  say  unto  you, 
that  God  is  able  of  these  stones  to 
raise  up  children  unto  Abraham. 
And  even  now  is  the  axe  laid  unto 
the  root  of  the  trees :  every  tree 
therefore  that  bringeth  not  forth  good 
fruit  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the 
fire. —  Malt,  j  :  y-io. 


you  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  ? 
Bring  forth  therefore  fruits  worthy  of 
repentance,  and  begin  not  to  say 
within  yourselves.  We  have  Abraham 
to  our  father :  for  I  say  unto  you, 
that  God  is  able  of  these  stones  to 
raise  up  children  unto  Abraham. 
And  even  now  is  the  axe  also  laid 
unto  the  root  of  the  trees  :  every  tree 
therefore  that  bringeth  not  forth  good 
fruit  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the 
fi  re.  —  Luke  j  :  7-9. 


Let  the  other  cxamj)le  be  from  a  narrative  section. 


And  walking  by  the  sea  of  Galilee, 
he  saw  two  brethren,  Simon  who  is 


And   passing  along  by   the  sea   of 
Galilee,  he  saw  Simon  and  Andrew, 


SOURCES  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS.  427 


called  Peter,  and  Andrew,  his  brother, 
casting  a  net  into  the  sea ;  for  they 
were  fishers.  And  he  saith  unto 
them,  Come  ye  after  me,  and  I  will 
make  you  fishers  of  men.  And  they 
straightway  left  the  nets,  and  fol- 
lowed him.  And  going  on  from 
thence  he  saw  other  two  brethren, 
James  the  son  of  Zebedee,  and  John 
his  brother,  in  the  boat  with  Zebedee 
their  father,  mending  their  nets  ;  and 
he  called  them.  And  they  straight- 
way left  the  boat  and  their  father, 
and  followed  him. —  Matt.  4  :  18-22. 


the  brother  of  Simon,  casting  a  net 
in  the  sea ;  for  they  were  fishers. 
And  Jesus  said  unto  them,  Come  ye 
after  me,  and  I  will  make  you  to  be- 
come fishers  of  men.  And  straight- 
way they  left  the  nets,  and  followed 
him.  And  going  on  a  little  further, 
he  saw  James  the  son  of  Zebedee, 
and  John  his  brother,  who  also  were 
in  the  boat,  mending  the  nets.  And 
straightway  he  called  them  :  and  they 
left  their  father  Zebedee  in  the  boat 
with  the  hired  servants,  and  went 
after  him. —  Mark  i :  16-20. 


The  significance  of  the  fact  illustrated  by  these  examples  is 
still  more  clear,  when  we  observe  that  such  resemblances  as 
these  are  very  numerous  among  the  first  three  gospels,  but 
scarcely  occur  at  all  between  any  one  of  them  and  the  fourth. 
The  latter  manifestly  treats  of  the  same  Jesus  who  is  the  subject 
of  the  other  three,  yet,  in  a  literary  sense,  pursues  almost  an 
entirely  independent  course. 

These  facts  and  others  that  are  related  to  them  have  made  it 
evident  that  the  problem  of  the  sources  and  mutual  relations  of 
the  first  three  gospels  —  the  Synoptic  Problem,  as  it  is  often 
called  —  is  a  real  one,  and  one  which  is  in  large  part  distinct 
from  any  that  pertain  to  the  fourth  gospel. 

The  elements  of  this  synoptic  problem  have  already  been 
stated  in  part.  They  include,  (i)  Resemblances  of  these  gospels 
to  one  another  in  several  particulars.  Thus  all  three  of  the 
synoptists  observe  the  same  general  historical  boundaries, 
recording  the  Galilean  and  Perean  ministries  and  omitting  the 
early  Judean  ministry  reported  by  John.  They  record  in  con- 
siderable part  the  same  events  in  these  periods,  a  fact  the  signif- 
icance of  which  will  be  better  appreciated  if  it  be  remembered 
how  small  a  fraction  of  all  the  events  of  Jesus'  ministry  is 
related,  and  if  it  be  noticed  that  for  the  most  part  the  fourth 
gospel  makes  an  entirely  different  selection.  In  the  order  of 
events  there  are  marked  resemblances;  between  Mark  and  Luke 
especially  there  is  a  close  resemblance,  which  is  made  all  the  more 


428  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

striking  b\-  the  fact  that  Matthew  and  Mark  niucli  less  con- 
stantly agree,  and  that  Matthew  and  Luke  scarcely  agree  at  all 
except  when  both  agree  with  Mark.  Finally  there  is  close  yerbal 
similarity  in  the  record  of  the  eyents  related  in  common  by  two 
or  by  all  three  of  the  synoptists;  the  examples  gi\cn  abo\-e 
illustrate  the  nature  of  this  similarity.  (2  )  Differences  among  the 
synoptists.  For  despite  the  marked  resemblances,  each  gospel 
still  has  its  own  somewhat  clearly  marked  purpose,  each  records 
some  ev'ents  not  related  by  the  others,  and  omits  some  recorded 
by  the  others,  each  adds  details  not  found  in  the  others,  and 
Luke  in  a  number  of  cases  giyes  a  quite  inde])endent  account  in 
jjlace  of  that  which  the  other  two  giye  in  common.  (3)  The 
statements  of  the  gospels  themselves  or  of  early  Christian  writers 
concerning  the  origin  of  the  several  gospels.  Two  of  the  most 
important  of  these  have  already  been  quoted,  Luke's  preface, 
and  the  statement  of  Papias  concerning  Mark.  Another  \ery 
important  one,  also  from  Papias,  may  be  quoted  here. 

Matthew  accordingly  composed  the   oracles   in   the  Hebrew  dialect  and 
each  one  interpreted  them  as  he  was  able. 

As  long  ago  as  Augustine  the  close  resemblance  of  the 
gosjjels  was  noticed,  and  the  suggestion  was  j)ut  forth  by  him 
that  Mark  had  condensed  his  narrative  from  Matthew.  Jerome 
discussed  the  Cjuestion  of  the  relation  between  the  original 
Hebrew  Matthew  spoken  of  b\-  Pa])ias,  and  the  Greek  Matthew 
then  and  now  current  in  the  church.  In  the  eighteenth  century 
interest  in  the  problem  revived,  and  for  the  last  hundred  years  it 
has  been  recognized  as  one  of  the  most  ini|)ortaiil  |)rol)k'nis  ot  New 
Testament  scholarshi]).  So  many  have  been  the  theories  pro- 
pounded that  we  must  speak  of  them  for  the  most  j)art  in  classes. 
I.  The  theor}'  of  a  coninioii  (lotunient  from  which  all  three  of 
ourgospels  drew.  This  lluorN'  was  achocated  1)\'  Ficlihoni  in  1  794, 
and  for  a  time  commended  itself  to  man\-  scholars.  Hul  w  hen  it 
had  been  moditk-d  1)\-  the  introduction  of  the  multi])lied  recensions 
of  this  OIK-  doiiiniciit  that  were  seen  to  !)(.•  n(,'C(.-ssar\-  in  order  that 
the  theor\-  might  acccnmt  for  tiie  facts,  it  had  become  st)  cinnber- 
some,  so  loaded  with  unsustained  h\|)othesis  that  it  iiroke  down 
untler  its  own  weight,  and  toda\'  has   jiracticalU'  no  advocates. 


SOURCES  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS.  429 

2.  The  theory  of  an  oral  gospel  regards  the  oral  teaching  and 
preaching  of  the  apostles  and  early  missionaries  as  itself  the 
direct  source  of  our  synoptic  gospels.  This  teaching,  it  is  held, 
naturally  assumed,  while  the  apostles  were  still  living,  a  somewhat 
fixed  and  definite  form,  or  rather  several  such  forms,  resembling 
one  another,  yet  having  each  its  own  peculiarities.  The  differences 
of  the  synoptic  gospels  are  due  to  the  variable  element,  the 
resemblances  to  the  fixed  element,  of  this  living  tradition.  Giese- 
ler,  in  181 8,  gave  definite  form  to  this  view,  and  it  still  has  ardent 
advocates.  The  theory,  like  the  tradition  by  which  it  accounts 
for  our  gospels,  is  very  flexible,  and  has  in  fact  received  several 
quite  divergent  forms.  One  of  the  most  recently  proposed  and 
most  interesting  forms  is  that  of  Mr.  Arthur  Wright  in  his  book. 
The  Conipositiofi  of  the  Four  Gospels.  The  serious  question 
concerning  this  view  is  not  whether  such  an  oral  gospel 
in  fact  existed,  nor  whether  it  is  the  source  of  our  gospels — 
this  is  generally  conceded — but  whether  it  is  the  direct  source. 
The  close  resemblances  of  the  gospels  to  one  another  in  cer- 
tain parts,  as  well  as  the  peculiar  and  uneven  distribution  of  these 
resemblances,  lead  many  scholars  to  believe  that  between  the  oral 
gospel  and  the  present  gospels  there  must  have  been  a  written 
medium,  and  that  there  must  also  have  been  some  dependence  of 
our  present  gospels  on  one  another.  From  this  conviction  has 
arisen  another  class  of  theories,  which  admit  the  existence  and  the 
influence  of  the  oral  gospel,  but  do  not  find  in  it  a  sufficient 
explanation  of  the  facts.   They  may  be  grouped  under  the  head  of  : 

3.  The  theory  of  an  original  document  supplemented  by 
that  of  the  interdependence  of  our  present  gospels.  It  is  evident 
that  this  general  theory  is  capable  of  many  forms  according  to 
the  order  of  dependence  which  is  assumed.  It  must  suffice  to 
mention  the  views  of  a  few  well-known  scholars. 

Meyer  regarded  the  original  Hebrew  gospel  of  Matthew,  the 
oracles  spoken  of  by  Papias,  as  the  oldest  document.  This  was 
used  by  Mark,  who  had  as  his  other  chief  source  his  personal 
recollection  of  the  preaching  of  Peter.  (3ur  present  gospel  of 
Matthew  grew  out  of  the  original  Hebrew  gospel  of  Matthew 
largelv  under  the  influence  of  Mark,  and  under  this  influence  was 


430  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

translated  into  Greek.      Luke  used  Mark  and  the  Greek  Matthew 
as  we  still  hav^c  it. 

Bernhard  Weiss  holds  a  similar  view,  differing  most  conspic- 
uously in  holding  that  Luke  used  not  our  present  Matthew,  but  a 
Greek  translation  of  the  original  Matthew. 

Holtzmann,  Bruco,  Wendt,  and  others,  while  recognizing  the 
use  both  of  Mark  and  of  the  original  Matthew  by  the  first  and 
third  evangelists,  regard  Mark  itself  as  an  independent  work. 
According  to  this  view  there  lie  at  the  basis  of  our  gospels  two 
original  and  independent  documents,  the  original  Matthew  and 
Mark,  the  latter  identical  or  nearly  so  with  our  present  second 
gospel.     This  is  known  as  the  two-document  theory. 

Uniformity  of  opinion  has  evidently  not  yet  been  reached. 
There  is,  however,  a  clearly  marked  tendency  to  agree  on  a  few 
propositions,  (i)  That  back  of  all  our  gospels  lies  what  may  be 
called  the  oral  gospel,  the  main  source  of  all  documents.  (2) 
That  the  apostle  Matthew  put  forth  a  collection  of  the  sayings" 
or  discourses  of  Jesus,  probably  including  also  some  narrative 
portions.  Some  identify  this  with  our  present  Matthew,  but  the 
general  tendency  is  to  regard  it  rather  as  a  source  of  the  first 
gospel  than  as  that  book  itself.  ( 3  )  That  Mark  put  forth  a  gospel 
substantially  identical  with  our  second  gospel.  His  chief  source 
was  his  personal  recollection  of  the  preaching  of  Peter,  or  if  he 
had  two  coordinate  sources  these  were  the  original  Matthew  and  the 
preaching  of  Peter.  (4)  That  our  present  Matthew  is  based  mainly 
on  Mark  and  the  original  Matthew.  (5)  That  Luke  also  employed 
Mark  and  the  orie-inal  Matthew  as  his  chief  sources.'  Thus  on  the 
one  side  there  is  a  tendency  to  distinguish  our  first  gospel  from 
the  original  apostolic  Matthew,  and  on  the  other  to  regard  all 
three  of  the  synoptists  as  resting  in  no  small  part  upon  genuinely 
apostolic  sources. 

■  It  is  a  question  wliicli  perhaps  deserves  further  consideration  tlian  it  has  yet 
received  vviiether  the  matter  common  to  Matthew  and  l.uke  but  not  found  in  Mark, 
which  is  usually  assigned  to  the  original  Matthew,  ought  not  rather  to  be  recognized  as 
coming  from  three  documents,  of  which  the  apostolic  Matthew  was  used  by  the  first 
evangelist  only,  the  others,  however,  in  common  by  Luke  and  the  first  evangelist, 
though  by  each  in  his  own  way.  Such  a  view  while  increasing  the  number  of  the 
sources  would  explain  some  facts  difficult  to  account  for  on  the  more  common  view. 


SOURCES  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS.  43  I 

When  we  turn  to  the  problem  of  the  fourth  gospel,  we  find 
it  of  a  ver}^  different  character  from  that  which  the  synoptic 
gospels  present.  Here,  since  we  have  but  one  book,  the  factor 
of  resemblances  and  differences  is  at  once  eliminated.  The 
question  of  sources  is  not  indeed  excluded,  but  the  generally 
homogeneous  character  of  the  book,  and  the  absence  of  any 
other  work  which,  containing  in  part  the  same  material,  might 
serve  as  a  touchstone  for  the  detection  of  different  sources, 
remand  this  problem  to  a  secondary  place.  The  great  question 
concerning  the  fourth  gospel  is  that  of  its  essential  authorship. 
Is  it  as  all  tradition  afifirms,  the  work  of  the  apostle  John,  or  is  it 
not?  Roughly  speaking,  three  views  have  been  maintained  :  (i)  It 
is  in  the  strictest  sense  the  work  of  the  apostle.  This  view 
has  been  held  from  the  second  century  down,  and  is  today 
defended  by  a  large  number  of  sober  and  able  scholars.  (2)  It 
is  simply  a  spurious  work  of  the  second  century,  in  no  sense 
Johannine,  or,  at  any  rate,  having  a  Johannine  element  so 
slight  as  to  be  almost  inappreciable.  It  was  in  1820  that 
Bretschneider  called  in  cjuestion  the  Johannine  authorship,  down 
to  that  time  accepted  almost  without  dissenting  voice.  He 
afterwards  withdrew  his  objections,  but  the  question  was  not 
dropped,  and  there  are  still  to  be  found  scholars  who  find  little  or 
no  connection  between  the  fourth  gospel  and  the  apostle  John. 
(3)  The  fourth  gospel  proceeds  from  John  as  the  chief  source  of 
its  information,  but  the  actual  writer  was  some  disciple  of  John 
to  us  unknown.  Substantially  this,  though  with  much  variation 
in  details,  is  the  view  advocated  by  Sabatier,  Weizsacker,  and 
Wendt  in  their  published  writings,  and  by  some  other  well-known 
scholars  in  their  class-room  lectures. 

The  truth,  we  are  constrained  to  believe,  lies  essentially  with 
the  first  view,  subject  perhaps  to  some  modification  in  the 
direction  of  the  third.  Fifty  years  of  criticism  have  resulted 
in  carrying  the  date  of  the  gospel  back  fifty  years  earlier 
than  the  opponents  of  its  genuineness  wished  to  place  it. 
Whereas,  in  1844,  F.  C.  Baur  assigned  it  to  about  170  A.D., 
thus  separating  it  by  two  whole  generations  from  the  latest  pos- 
sible date  of  John's  death,  Jiilicher,  one  of  the  most  recent  writers 


432  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

to  deny  the  Johanninc  authorship,  places  it  between  lOO  and 
125  A. D.,  with  an  apparent  inclination  to  the  earlier  part  of  this 
quarter-century.  It  seems,  morcoyer,  impossible  to  doubt  that 
the  clear  evidence  which  the  book  affords  of  proceeding  from  a 
Jewish  Christian  familiar  with  Palestinian  affairs  in  the  days  of 
Jesus,  and  its  manifest  claim  at  the  very  least  to  rest  upon  the  testi- 
mony of  an  eyewitness  from  among  the  apostles  of  Jesus,  will 
continue  to  exercise  an  increasing  influence  in  the  decision  of 
the  question.  At  the  same  time  it  must  be  recognized  that  there 
are  some  indications  that  the  book,  as  we  possess  it,  did  not 
proceed  from  the  very  pen  of  him  who  was  the  chief  source 
of  its  material.  It  would  not  be  strange  if  this  evidence  should 
at  length  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  this  gospel  is  from  the 
apostle  John  as  the  second  gospel  is  from  the  apostle  Peter, 
rather  than  from  his  own  pen. 

Should  something  approximating  to  this  view  come  to  pre- 
vail, and  should  the  views  intimated  above  concerning  the 
synoptic  problem  stand  the  test  of  further  examination,  we 
should  then  have  not,  indeed,  as  tradition  says,  two  directly 
apostolic  and  two  indirectly  apostolic  books,  but  four  books  in 
varying  degrees  apostolic.  Of  the  first  gospel  we  should  recog- 
nize Matthew  and  Peter  as  the  chief  sources  ;  of  the  second,  Peter 
would  be  regarded  as  the  chief  source,  or  Matthew  and  Peter  as 
coordinate  sources  ;  of  the  third,  Peter  as  a  main  source,  Matthew 
perhaps  a  second  ;  of  the  fourth,  John  would  be  the  source.  But, 
whatever  the  precise  view  which  shall  eventually  obtain  general 
acceptance,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  total  outcome  will  be 
in  the  direction  of  the  results  already  attained,  viz.,  a  more  exact, 
a  more  impressi\-e,  a  more  surcl\-  attested  knowledge  of  the  lite 
and  teaching  of  Jesus  than  previous  generations  have  i)ossessed. 
If,  in  the  meantime,  the  historical  study  of  the  gosi)cls  is  made 
more  difficult  than  it  once  was,  it  will  also  be  made  more  fruitiul, 
and  its  results  will  be  more  surclv  attested. 


THE   BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  JESUS. 


By  Rev.  Professor   A.  C.  Zenos,  D.  D. 
McCormick  Theological  Seminary. 


The  earliest  and  the  latest  scenes  in  Jesus  life  attract  the  Christian  —  the 
earliest  especially. —  The  house  in  Nazareth  —  the  Atmunciatio7i  and  visit  to 
Elizabeth  —  the  effect  on  Joseph. —  The  Birth  at  Bethlehem  —  the  shepherds 
watch  —  the  angels'  so?tg — the  visit  to  the  cave  of  the  Nativity.^  The  presen- 
tation at  the  Temple  —  the  testimony  of  Simeon  and  Anna  —  the  adoration  of 
the  Magi. —  The  flight  to  Egypt —  the  return  to  iXazareth. 

The  Christian  Church  has  instinctively  seized  on  the  two 
ends  of  the  earthly  life  of  Jesus,  and  made  them  emphatic  by 
fixing  on  them  as  the  periods  of  the  festivals  and  celebrations  of 
its  calendar.  Christian  Art  also  expressing,  no  doubt,  the  same 
instinctive  feeling  has  expended  an  apparently  disproportionate 
amount  of  idealizing  energy  on  the  beginning  and  end  of  the 
terrestrial  career  of  the  Saviour  of  men.  Almost  altogether 
ignoring  the  years  of  the  active  ministry  the  great  artists  have 
multiplied  without  number  their  beautiful  representations  of  the 
Nativity,  the  Crucifixion,  Resurrection,  and  Ascension.  What 
do  these  facts  mean?  It  cannot  certainly  be  a  mere  accident 
that  the  hearts  and  minds  of  Christians  have  fondly  reverted  to 
these  scenes  of  the  Redeemer's  life.  We  reiterate  only  an  old 
and  easily  perceptible  truth,  and  yet  a  profound  one  when  we 
give  answer  to  the  above  question  by  calling  attention  to  the 
fact  that  the  birth  and  death  of  Jesus  Christ  stand  for  the  great 
revealed  truths  of  the  Incarnation  and  the  Atonement.  There  is 
a  hunger  and  thirst  in  the  human  spirit  which  only  the  revelation 
of  the  fact  that  "the  Word  was  made  flesh"  can  satisfy.  There 
is  a  craving  in  human  nature  which  only  the  knowledge  of  the 
fact  that  Christ  "bare  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree," 
can  allay. 

•     But  of  the  two  periods  of  the  Lord's  earthly  life  above  men- 
tioned  the   earliest   is   perhaps  the  one    which   is   more  eagerly 

433 


THE  BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  JESUS.  435 

scanned.  How  often  the  desire  has  been  expressed  that  the 
annalists  had  given  us  more  fully  the  details  concerning  that  won- 
derful birth  and  that  unique  childhood.  Even  the  year  of  the 
Saviour's  appearance  in  human  weakness  has  been  the  subject  of 
many  searching  investigations  and  divergent  conclusions  ;  and 
as  to  the  time  of  the  year  the  very  opposite  seasons  have  been 
pointed  out  as  the  most  likely  period  for  the  event.  And  yet, 
have  not  the  evangelists  furnished  enough  facts  to  gratify  every 
legitimate  need  and  desire?  If  the  data  be  taken  in  the  sim- 
plicity with  which  they  appear  to  be  given,  and  if  no  difficulties 
be  created  where  difficulties  do  not  naturally  exist  in  the  narra- 
tives, they  will  present  in  a  few  clear  pictures  a  complete  story 
of  the  Advent  and  Infancy  of  Immanuel. 

The  first  scene  carries  us  into  Galilee,  and  particularly  to  the 
town  of  Nazareth,  despised  for  its  lack  of  historical  associations, 
and  perhaps  for  the  jjlainness  and  crudity  of  its  inhabitants. 
Here  lived  a  descendant  of  David  in  lowly  circumstances — - 
Joseph,  the  carpenter.  Here  dwelt  also  another  descendant  of 
David  in  somewhat  better  circumstances,  perhaps  ;  for  a  priest 
found  his  wife  among  her  kin.  This  was  Mary,  the  betrothed  of 
Joseph.  It  was  the  age  of  expectation.  Even  far  away  among 
the  Magians  of  Mesopotamia  the  hope  that  a  great  King  and 
Deliverer  was  to  make  his  appearance  was  vividly  entertained. 
In  Palestine  this  expectation  was  at  its  keenest.  As  when  the 
sun  after  the  winter  season  gathers  strength  and  pours  his  warm- 
ing rays  on  different  fields  and  simultaneously  sets  the  forces  of 
life  to  working  in  them  and  causes  it  to  spring  forth  and  blossom 
in  apparently  independent  centers,  so  the  Spirit  of  the  Almighty 
was  evidently  at  work  both  far  and  near  vivifying  the  hope  of  a 
marvelous  manifestation  of  Himself.  But  God  is  consistent  with 
himself,  and  having  aroused  this  hope  he  also  vouchsafed  cer- 
tain signs  whereby  its  fulfilment  should  be  certified  to  all  men, 
especially  those  in  whom  the  hope  was  aroused  at  the  time, 
Thus  a  series  of  what  men  conveniently  call  "supernatural  "  occur- 
rences took  place  to  arrest  the  attention  and  attest  God's  special 
presence  in  what  was  about  to  be  witnessed. 

The  first  in  importance  of  these   supernatural   manifestations 


436  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

was  given  to  the  \^irgin  that  was  to  become  the  mother  of  the  Mes- 
siah. The  tlirill  which  filled  her  heart  as  she  heard  the  message  of 
the  angeh  of  the  Annunciation  was  only  deepened  and  changed 
into  a  gladsome  acceptance  of  a  great  honor  divinely  conferred 
when  she  was  further  informed  in  detailed  representation  of  the 
nature  of  her  offspring  that  was  to  be  and  of  his  birth  and  name. 
Nor  was  she,  the  angel  assured  her,  the  first  person  to  receive  a 
supernatural  intimation  of  the  impending  advent  of  the  Messiah, 
even  though  she  should  have  the  honor  of  standing  in  the  closest 
natural  relation  to  him.  Her  cousin  Elizabeth  had  alreadv  been 
charged  and  enabled  by  the  power  of  God  to  take  upon  herself 
the  welcome  task  of  motherhood  to  the  prophet  that  should  go 
before  the  face  of  God's  anointed.  Eager  for  every  ray  of  light 
on  such  a  vital  matter,  Mary  hastened  to  Judea  and  there  heard 
even  more  than  was  sufficient  to  confirm  the  angel's  words. 

But  though  the  message,  thus  supernaturally  given  and  super- 
naturally  confirmed,  rendered  her  willing,  yea,  glad,  to  assume  a 
position  otherwise  full  of  dif^culty  —  a  position  that  apart  from 
these  supernatural  assurances  she  would  naturally  have  shrunk 
from  —  it  created  a  crisis  in  her  relations  to  Joseph;  her  betrothed. 
On  returning  from  a  visit  to  her  cousin  in  Judea  she  evidently 
made  known  her  God-assigned  task  to  the  righteous  carpenter  of 
Nazareth  ;  and  in  his  mind  the  information  could,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, lead  to  but  one  resolution,  /.  c,  that  of  putting  her 
away.  But  here  again  God's  j)lan  was  different  from  that  of 
men.  Joseph  was  apprised  in  a  vision  of  the  night  that  the 
Child  of  his  Virgin  wife  was  to  be  the  Saviour  of  Israel.  His 
mind  was  rex'olutioni/.ed.  Instead  of  carrying  out  his  purpose 
of  putting  away  his  intended  wife,  he  now  hastens  to  consum- 
mate that  perfect  union  between  himself  and  lier  that  should 
give  him  the  legal  right  to  shield  and  protect  both  her  and  her 
offspring  friim  all  cxil  that  might  threaten.  Thus  tlu-  months 
passed. 

A  census  was  ordered,  and,  according  to  tin-  Jewish  law,  it 
must  lje  taken  according  to  the  tribes  and  families  of  tlu-  nation. 
Josejjh,  as  "of  the  house  of  Da\  id,"  must  go  to  Bethlehem,  "the 
city  of  David,"  to  be  registered.      Nothing  was  more  natural  than 


THE  BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  JESUS. 


437 


that  he  should  take  with  him  his  bride,  and  thus  secure  the 
enrollment  also  of  her  son  as  the  true  "son  of  David."  The 
scanty  accommodations  of  the  village  were  soon  exhausted  under 
the  strain  put  on  them  by  the  extraordinary  inflow  of  men  who, 
like  Joseph,  had  come  to  be  numbered  with  their  "house."  The 
pair  from  Nazareth  were  compelled  to  take  their  abode  in  a 
natural  cave  outside  the   village  that  had  been  used  as  a  stable 


BETHLEHEM    FROM   THE    LATIN    CONVENT. 


for  the  lodging  of  cattle.  Thus  did  the  Divine  Providence  bring 
it  about  that  the  King  of  Israel,  "the  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of 
lords"  should  enter  the  world  in  the  lowliest  imaginable  sur- 
roundings. Artists  have  idealized  the  historical  situation,  but 
only  that  they  might  the  better  express  the  devout  feelings 
roused  by  the  contemplation  of  the  marvelous  facts.  The  pro- 
cess of  idealizing  adds  nothing  either  to  the  charm  or  the  sug- 
gestiveness  of  the  bare  historical  picture.  The  simplicity  of 
nature  and  history  is  the  simplicity  of  God's  way  of  dealing,  and 
needs  no  embellishment. 

And  yet  lowly  and  simple  as  the  scene  presented  at  Bethle- 


yi    ^ 


THE  BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  JESUS.  439 

hem  it  lacked  nothing  of  appropriate  accompaniment  of  miracle. 
In  the  inimitable  language  of  St.  Luke,  "there  were  shepherds 
in  the  same  country  abiding  in  the  field,  keeping  watch  over 
their  flock  by  night.  And,  lo,  the  angel  of  the  Lord  came 
upon  them,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shone  round  about  them  :" 
and  to  their  minds,  filled  with  natural  awe,  the  message  must 
have  sounded  like  the  reassuring  words  of  a  friend  come  to  the 
rescue  in  time  of  peril:  "Fear  not:  for,  behold,  I  bring  you 
good  tidings  of  great  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  the  people.  For 
unto  you  is  born  this  day  in  the  city  of  David  a  Saviour,  which  is 
Christ  the  Lord."  And  before  they  could  altogether  realize  the 
further  details  of  description  through  which  the  angelic  message 
should  be  verified  by  them  in  the  manger  at  the  cave,  the  veil 
between  heaven  and  earth  seemed  to  be  lifted,  and  upon  their 
entranced  ears  there  fell  strains  of  music  such  as  no  mortal  had 
heard  till  then.  Yea,  and  many  have  been  the  efforts  since  to  repro- 
duce that  celestial  harmony.  And  though  none  have  succeeded 
in  doing  this,  yet  the  attempt  has  proved  a  source  of  inspiration 
and  an  uplifting  force  for  the  whole  art  of  song.  Devout  Han- 
dels  and  Bachs  and  Gounods,  as  well  as  Mendelssohns  and  Wag- 
ners who  would  not  bow  the  knee  to  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem, 
have  soared  higher  and  sung  more  thrillingly  because  the  heavenly 
host  on  that  Christmas  night,  under  the  clear  sky  of  Syria, 
praised  God  and  said:  "Glory  to  God  in  the  Highest,  and  on 
earth  peace,  good  will  toward  men." 

But  the  heavenly  vision  having  accomplished  its  object,  hav- 
ing rendered  the  first  announcement  of  Christ's  birth,  a  glad  one 
to  the  humble  herdsmen  of  Judea,  was  lost  to  their  bodily  eyes. 
The  incident,  however,  moved  them  to  hasten  to  Bethlehem,  and, 
guided  by  the  light  which  hung  over  the  entrance  of  the  village 
inn,  they  found  the  cave  used  as  a  stable  attachment  to  the  inn, 
and  there,  although  not  perhaps  in  harmony  with  their  ideas  of 
the  fitting  dignity  and  splendor  in  which  the  Messiah  should 
come,  they  found  what  they  had  been  told.  Thus  assured  that 
they  had  not  been  the  victims  of  a  natural  illusion  they  in  turn 
related  their  own  experiences  of  the  heavenly  music  and  the 
angelic  message  and  went  back  to  their  humble  tasks  with  glad- 


440  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

der  hearts,  lea\'ing  those  who  heard  their  story  in  a  state  of 
greater  wonderment  and  keener  expectation. 

The  next  scene  portrayed  by  the  evangelist  carries  us  into 
the  Temple.  The  law  required  in  the  case  of  a  first  born  male 
child,  first  the  admission  of  the  child  into  the  body  politic  by 
the  administration  of  the  rite  of  circumcision.  This  was  dulv 
performed  on  the  eighth  day,  and  the  child  receixed  the  signifi- 
cant name  designated  b}'  the  angel  of  the  Annunciation  to  both 
the  parents.  The  further  requirements  of  the  law  were  the  cere- 
mony of  the  redemption  of  the  first  born,  and  the  purification  of 
the  mother.  Though  there  might  be  a  possible  difference  of  ten 
days  in  the  dates  of  these  two  events,  yet  if  convenience  called 
for  it  the  ceremony  of  redemption  might  be  put  off  and  the  two 
services  rendered  at  the  same  time,  /.  e.,  on  the  forty-first  day 
after  the  birth  of  the  child.  On  this  day,  therefore,  Joseph  and 
Mary  appeared  at  the  Temple  with  the  offering  prescribed  for 
the  poor  on  such  occasions,  "a  pair  of  turtle-doves  or  two  young 
pigeons."  But  scarcely  had  this  service  been  performed,  signi- 
fying once  more  the  human  and  lowly  condition  of  the  Infant 
Christ,  before  it  was  counterbalanced  by  a  new  testimony  to  his 
divine  origin  and  mission.  Simeon,  a  devout  man  and  just,  and 
"waiting  for  the  consolation  of  Israel,"  came  by  the  Spirit  into 
the  Temple"  as  this  legal  ceremony  was  being  ended,  and  taking 
the  Infant  in  his  arms,  ])()ured  forth  that  noijle  song  of  praise 
and  gratitude  which  has  remained  a  religious  classic  to  all  the 
generations  following,  that  song  which  was  also  a  ])rophecy  of 
the  Child's  world-wide  mission  and  of  the  mother's  heart-wound 
consetjucnt  on  his  earthly  suffering.  And  as  if  woman  also 
should  not  be  unheard  at  this  first  testimony  to  the  Messiah, 
Anna,  "a  jjrophetess,  the  daughter  of  Phanuel.  of  the  tribe  of 
Aser,  of  a  great  age,  who  had  li\ed  with  an  ]uisl)and  se\'en  years 
from  her  virginity,  and  w  as  a  widow  of  fourscore  years  and  four, 
which  dejjarted  not  from  the  Temple,  but  served  God  with  fast- 
ing and  prayers  night  and  day,"  steps  forth  from  her  otherwise 
unknown  career,  and  adds  her  voice  to  that  of  .Simeon  in  the 
recognition  of  the  Messianic  character  and  mission  of  the  Child. 

These  utterances  contril)uted  towards   the  coiifiriuation  if  not 


THE  BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  JESUS.  441 

indeed  towards  the  formation  of  the  resolve  by  Joseph  that  he 
would  not  return  to  despised  Nazareth  but  take  his  abode  at 
Bethlehem  and  ply  his  trade  there  with  a  view  to  associating  the 
"Son  of  David"  with  his  ancestral  history  and  mission  in  the 
"City  of  David."  But  this  was  a  resolution  which  he  was  not 
destined  to  carry  out.  A  danger  arose  presently  from  an  unex- 
pected quarter.  Certain  Magi,  in  whose  bosoms  the  great  hope 
of  the  age  had  found  lodgment,  were  led  either  by  a  direct  super- 
natural sign  in  the  skies  designed  especiallv  to  inform  them 
that  their  hope  was  realized,  or  by  a  natural  phenomenon  inter- 
preted by  them  under  supernatural  guidance  as  the  sign  of  the 
advent  of  the  Deliverer  they  expected,  made  their  appearance  in  the 
capital  of  Judea  ;  they  went  to  the  very  palace  of  Herod  publicly 
declaring  their  desire  to  find  the  new-born  king.  But  that  crafty 
and  unscrupulous  usurper,  moved  to  suspicion  and  dread  by  the 
least  hint  of  opposition  or  rivalry,  immediately  determined  to 
use  these  "wise  men"  in  putting  out  of  the  way  the  object  of 
their  search.  To  this  end  he  helped  them  through  the  learned 
scribes  to  find  the  approximate  place  of  the  new  king's  birth  and 
depended  on  their  further  investigations  for  the  exact  details 
that  should  lead  him  to  strike  the  fatal  blow  at  his  rival.  This 
then  was  the  danafer,  and  how  serious  it  was  no  one  can  fail  to 
realize  who  has  learned  of  the  unnumbered  atrocities  committed 
by  the  bloodthirst)"  monarch  even  on  his  nearest  kin.  A  two- 
fold warning  was  given  to  shield  the  infant  Jesus  from  the  mur- 
derous design  of  the  tvrant.  The  Magi  were  directed,  after  their 
act  of  homage,  to  depart  without  again  communicating  with 
Herod.  And  more  effectively  still  the  warning  was  given  to 
Joseph  to  flee  out  of  the  land  altogether. 

Thus  the  holv  family,  crossing  the  boundary  between  Pales- 
tine and  Egypt,  passed  out  of  the  jurisdiction  of  Herod.  In  vain 
this  bloodthirsty  t^-rant,  true  to  his  nature,  ordered  the  infamous 
massacre  of  the  innocents ;  the  Holy  Child  was  safe  in  the 
arms  of  a  Providence  whose  purposes  are  never  defeated. 
Herod's  days  of  blood  and  hatred  were,  however,  nearing  their 
end  at  the  time.  He  probably  did  not  survive  the  murder  of 
the  infants   of   Bethlehem  by  many  weeks.     When  the  news  of 


THE  BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  JESUS.  443 

his  death  reached  the  ears  of  Joseph,  he  naturally  determined  to 
return  from  his  temporary  exile.  He  had  not,  perhaps,  heard, 
when  he  started  on  his  homeward  journey,  of  the  disposition 
made  by  the  Roman  emperor  regarding  the  government  of 
Palestine.  If  he  had  any  hopes  of  again  settling  down  in  Judea 
with  Mary  and  Jesus,  he  was  led  to  abandon  them  as  he  learned 
that  Archelaus  was  assigned  the  rule  of  this  division  of  Palestine. 
The  ruler  had  signalized  his  accession  to  power  by  deeds  of 
cruelty  that  portended  ill  for  the  land  as  well  as  for  any  Mes- 
sianic plans  in  behalf  of  Jesus.  Thus  Providence  by  closing  up 
Judea  as  a  place  of  residence  to  him  seemed  to  compel  his  going 
back  to  Nazareth  in  spite  of  its  proverbially  bad  reputation. 

With  the  arrival  of  the  holy  family  at  Nazareth  the  period  of 
the  childhood  of  Jesus  closes.  In  a  single  verse  the  inspired 
narrative  gives  all  that  could  possibly  bear  on  this  portion  of  the 
earthly  career  of  the  Saviour.  "And  the  child  grew,  and  waxed 
strong  in  spirit  filled  with  wisdom  :  and  the  grace  of  God  was 
upon  him."  The  early  generations  of  Christians,  ignoring  the 
distinction  between  the  life  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world  and  the 
life  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  vainly  sought  to  fill  the  apparent  gap  in 
the  gospels.  In  the  search  for  the  information  that  was  to  com- 
plete the  supernatural  life  they  conjured  those  fantastic  and  in 
many  cases  absurd  and  repulsive  traditions  of  the  infancy  which 
are  woven  together  into  the  mythical  accounts  of  the  apocryphal 
gospels.  Let  it  suffice  to  know  that  the  childhood  of  Jesus  in 
Nazareth  was  that  of  an  ideal  child  in  a  quiet  godly  home  pre- 
sided over  by  an  upright  man  and  directed  by  a  tender  and  pure 
woman. 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  CHRIST. 


By  Professor  W  m.  Arnold  Stevens,  D.  D., 
Rochester  Theological  Seminary. 


History  has  only  begun  to  translate  into  terms  of  its  own 
that  brief  career  of  less  than  four  years  which  it  is  usual  to 
designate  the  ministry  of  Christ.  In  the  few  pages  that  follow 
I  would  fain  aid  the  reader  in  forming  an  approximately  correct 
conception  of  the  ministry  as  a  whole,  in  the  first  place  by  out- 
lining its  external  movement,  then  b}'  interpreting  its  inner  plan 
and  method.  The  question  may  be  put  very  simply  :  What  did 
Christ  do,  and  how  did  he  do  it?  What  course  did  he  take  as 
he  proceeded  step  by  step  to  fulfil  his  mission  and,  in  the  words 
of  Lange,  "Lay  the  foundations  of  a  new  world  deep  in  the 
spiritual  life  of  humanity  ?" 

One  remark  should  be  made  at  the  outset.  The  subject  of 
this  paper  is  substantially  coextensive  with  that  of  the  gospel 
history.  The  "gospel"  in  that  early  apostolic  use  of  the  word 
which  Mark  adopts  —  does  not  attempt  to  narrate  the  life  of 
Jesus,  but  his  ministry,  his  life  when  it  emerges  into  history  ;  the 
opening  chapters  of  Matthew  and  Luke,  and  the  prologue  of  John 
are  preliminary  to  the  consecutive  narrative  which  forms  the  body 
of  the  evangelical  record.  These  four  years,  taking  that  broader 
conception  which  includes  in  Christ's  ministry  the  preparatory 
and  cooperative  labor  of  John  the  Baptist,  constitute  substan- 
tially the  subject  of  the  gospel  history. 

ITS    EXTERNAL    I'RAMKWORK. 

This  j)hase  of  the  subject  must  be  bricllv  trcatc-d.  (  )ur 
Lord's  w(jrk  was  confined  to  the  Holy  Land,  and  that  not 
merely  in  a  territorial  sense,  but  to  the  Jewish  communities. 
There  is  no  evidence  that  he  ever  entered  Ca,*sarca,  Sepjjhoris, 
Tiberias,  or  aiiv  distinctiv  (icntile  city,  though  possibly  he  may 
have  done  so  during  his  withdrawal    to  the  districts   of  T\mc  and 

444 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  CHRIST.  445 

Sidon.  If  on  one  occasion  he  turned  aside  to  evangelize  a 
Samaritan  community,  it  was  partly  exceptional,  and  partly,  it 
mav  be,  by  way  of  recognizing  the  fact  that  the  Samaritans  were 
not  altogether  Gentile,  but  mixed  with  Jewish  blood.  In  general, 
however,  he  adhered  to  the  principle  of  his  mission:  "I  am  not 
sent  but  to  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel." 

Christ's  ministry  will  be  better  understood  by  following  the 
method  of  the  gospels  and  incorporating  the  work  of  the  fore- 
runner as  practically  a  part  of  it.  The  words  of  the  apostle 
Peter  fitly  mark  its  proper  scope,  "  Beginning  from  the  baptism 
of  John  unto  the  day  that  he  was  received  up  from  us"  (Acts 
I  :  22) ;  for  John's  work  continued  side  by  side  with  that  of  Christ 
for  a  year  or  more  after  he  had  baptized  him.  If,  then,  we  begin 
with  John's  appearance  and  end  with  the  Ascension,  we  have 
an  entire  period  of  nearly,  perhaps  fully,  four  years.  The  gos- 
pels themselves  do  not  furnish  calendar  dates  in  the  style  of 
modern  history.  Still  they  have  a  chronology  of  their  own,  and 
in  its  way  most  instructive.  The  following  divisions  are  marked 
off  in  the  combined  narrative  with  a  certain  degree  of  distinct- 
ness, though  the  assigned  length  of  several  of  them  is  neces- 
sarily conjectural. 

The  Opening  Events :  from  the  coming  of  John  until  the 
public  appearance  in  Jerusalem  ;   ten  or  twelve  months. 

The  Early  Judean  Ministry  :  from  the  public  appearance  of 
Jesus  in  Jerusalem  until  his  return  to  Galilee  ;  about  eight  months. 

First  Period  of  the  Galilean  Ministry :  from  the  return  to 
Galilee  until  the  choosing  of  the  Twelve ;  from  four  to  six 
months. 

Second  Period  of  the  Galilean  Ministry  ;  from  the  choosing 
of  the  Twelve  until  the  withdrawal  into  Northern  Galilee  ;  nearly 
one  year. 

Third  Period  of  the  Galilean  Ministry  :  from  the  withdrawal 
into  Northern  Galilee  until  the  final  departure  for  Jerusalem  ; 
about  seven  months. 

The  Perean  Ministry  :  from  the  final  departure  from  Galilee 
until  the  final  arrival  in  Jerusalem  ;  about  five  months. 


446  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

The  Passion  Week  and  the  Forty  Days :  from  the  final 
arrival  in  Jerusalem  until  the  Ascension  ;  nearly  seven  weeks. 

It  would  be  unfair  to  the  reader  whose  studies  in  New  Testa- 
ment chronology  are  in  a  strictly  rudimentary  stage  not  to 
remind  him  at  this  point  that  no  chronological  scheme  of  the 
gospel  history  can  as  yet  make  any  claim  whatever  to  scientific 
certainty  or  j)recision.  Even  the  year  of  our  Lord's  crucifixion 
has  not  been  demonstratively  ascertained  ;  so  also  as  to  the  dura- 
tion of  his  ministry  agreement  among  scholars  has  not  yet  been 
reached.  Not  a  few  distinguished  authorities  still  adhere  to  the 
tri-paschal  theory,  which  reduces  the  above  four  years  to  three, 
and  allows,  as  it  is  usually  held,  hardly  so  much  as  a  year  to  the 
entire  ministry  in  (ialilcc.  But  no  advocate  of  that  theory  has 
seemed  to  me  to  explain  with  any  degree  of  j)robability  how  the 
crowded  synoptic  narrative  from  the  choosing  of  the  Twelve  to 
the  feeding  of  the  five  thousand  can  be  provided  for  in  the 
limited  time  which  the  theory  requires  ;  that  jwrtion  of  the  nar- 
rative, it  will  be  remembered,  includes  two  preaching  tours  (see 
Luke  8:1-3  and  9:1-6,  with  its  parallels),  each  of  which  is  evi- 
dently dcscril)ed  as  covering  considerable  territory  ami  rc(iuir- 
ing  corresponding  time. 

THE    ri.AN    AND    THE    METHOD    OF    ITS    ACCOMPLISHMENT. 

Let  US  now  consider  the  more  important  question  what  the 
Scrij)ture  narrative  shows  Christ's  mission  in  its  inner  purpose  to 
have  been,  and  in  what  method  he  ])roceeded  to  carry  it  into 
effect.  Plan  and  method  there  must  needs  have  been.  In 
every  realm  of  intelligence  the  clearly  conceived  ideal  precedes 
the  highest  achievement.  Could  it  have  been  otherwise  here  ? 
If  the  gospels  are  indeed  history  and  not  mere  memorabilia, 
fragmentary  annals,  they  will  disclose  the  fundauuntal  lines  on 
which  our  Lord  wrought  at  this  divine  task.  If  I  mistake  not.  there 
are  three  stages  of  Christ's  ministry  discernible  though  not  sharply 
separated  from  one  another,  in  each  of  which  one  feature  of 
Christ's  plan  is  especially  prominent. 

I.    flu:  cvan(:;clization  of  the  Holy  Ltind.      Christ's  earlier  minis- 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  CHRIST. 


AA7 


try  was  preeminently  an  evangelizing  ministry.  He  was  first  of 
all,  as  was  John,  a  herald,  announcing  a  coming  kingdom  of  God. 
Thus  Mark  opens  his  account  of  the  Galilean  period,  "Jesus 
came  into  Galilee,  preaching  the  gospel  of  God  and  saying.  The 
time  is  fulfilled,  and  the  kingdom  of  God  is  at  hand  ;  repent  ye 
and  believe  in  the  gospel  ;"  and  from  the  fourth  gospel  we  learn 


TELL    HUM— A   SUPPOSED   SITE   OF   CAPERNAUM. 


that  he  had  been  similarly  employed  in  Judea ;  compare  John 
3:22  and  the  introductory  verses  to  the  discourse  with  Nico- 
demus. 

Carrying  the  glad  tidings  to  the  people  at  large,  —  this  is  the 
characteristic  feature  of  the  first  half,  roughly  speaking,  of  the 
entire  ministry,  a  period  of  nearly  two  years,  particularly  of  his 
own  personal  labors.  From  the  coming  of  John  the  Baptist  to 
the  choosing  of  the  Twelve  may  be  properly  called  the  period 
of  Evangelization.     From  that  time  on  that  part  of  his  work  was 


448  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

to  a  greater  extent  delegated  to  his  disciples.  During  the  third 
tour  among  the  cities  and  villages  of  Galilee,  probably  lasting 
several  months,  the  greater  part  of  it  was  evidently  performed 
by  the  Twelve.  Later  on  the  same  method  was  applied  on  a 
much  larger  scale,  when  he  appointed  the  Sex'enty  to  traverse 
Perca  and  Judea.  This  appears  to  have  been  the  most  system- 
atic and  comprehensive  ex'angclizing  campaign  of  his  ministry. 
It  seems  evident  that  it  lay  in  our  Lord's  plan  from  the  begin- 
ning to  have  the  gospel  message  brought  into  every  Jewish  com- 
munity in  Palestine.  Thus  he  brought  himself  into  personal 
touch  with  the  nation  at  large.  "Good  tidings  to  all  the  peo- 
ple :"  this  prophetic  word  of  the  angels  to  the  shepherds  strikes 
the  keynote  of  the  earlier  movement,  initiated  by  John  and  com- 
pleted by  Christ  and  his  disciples. 

In  accounting  for  the  tide  wave  of  popular  enthusiasm  that 
followed  Christ's  preaching  of  the  kingdom,  wc  are  of  course  not 
to  omit  the  factor  of  miracle.  He  came  with  the  credentials  of 
a  prophet  —  armed  with  su})ernatural  power  of  deed  in  confirma- 
tion of  his  word  of  winning  grace  and  of  more  than  human  wis- 
dom and  power.  It  is  to  this  phase  of  his  ministry  that  Peter's 
remarkable  description  to  Cornelius  applies:  "God  anointed  him 
with  the  Holy  Spirit  and  with  j)ower  ;  who  went  about  doing  good 
and  healing  all  who  were  oj)})ressed  of  the  devil ;  for  God  was 
with  him."  It  is  unnecessary  for  our  present  j)urposc  to  dwell 
upon  the  significance  of  the  miraculous  factor  \\\  his  earlier 
work  as  distinguished  from  the  later  —  sufficient  to  suggest  how 
it  accounts  in  j)art  for  the  success  of  his  evangelizing  ministry, 
which  indeed  ap[)ears  to  have  been  more  successful  than  many 
readers  of  the  narrati\'e  suppose,  who  think  perhaps  only  ol  the 
one  hundred  and  twenty  who  came  together  in  Jerusalem  alter  the 
resurrection,  or  of  the  five  hundred  to  whom  he  ap])eared  in 
Galilee.  That  the  number  of  j)rofessed  disciples  was  lar  larger 
than  this  will  perhaps  api)ear  later  on. 

2.  The  founding  of  the  chiorh.  The  modern  word  that  will 
perhaps  best  serve  to  describe  the  second  phase  of  Christ's  mis- 
sion is  Organization.  The  lainiliar  titlr,  Ministry  ot  Cliiist,  is 
to  manv  iiupcrccj)til)lv  misleading.      His  itiiuTaiit  liU-  ot  prearh- 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  CHRIST.  449 

ing  and  miracle-working  amid  flocking  multitudes  naturally 
impresses  the  imagination,  and  to  the  average  reader  is  tlie  life 
of  Christ.  But  he  was  more  than  the  evangelizing  prophet  — 
the  preacher  to  the  multitude.  He  not  only  announced,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  found,  the  kingdom.  Lord  Bacon  assigns  the  supreme 
place  in  history  to  those  who  have  founded  empires,  the  Fimdi- 
torcs  imperioriim.  Jesus  was  the  creator  of  a  society,  the  builder 
of  the  new  Civitas  Dei,  the  founder  of  a  spiritual  empire. 

During  the  long  period  from  the  choosing  of  the  Twelve  on 
the  Mount  of  Beatitudes  to  the  final  arrival  at  Jerusalem,  about 
a  year  and  a  half,  organization  is  evidently  the  ruling  idea ;  not 
merely  or  chiefly  organization  external,  but  that  training  and 
development  of  the  corporate  life  to  which  the  apostle  Paul 
applies  the  word  edification.  His  time  is  chiefly,  though  by  no 
means  exclusively,  occupied  with  his  disciples.  He  devotes 
himself  continuously  to  their  instruction  ;  his  principal  discourses 
are  addressed  to  them.  He  speaks  now  with  a  loftier  tone  of 
authority.  The  teacher  becomes  the  lawgiver.  His  words  are 
institutes  of  morals.  The  law  is  not  to  be  abrogated,  but  obeyed 
and  executed.  It  is  interesting  to  observe  how  large  a  part  of 
the  record  of  the  Perean  as  well  as  of  the  Galilean  ministry  is 
ethical  instruction. 

The  creation  of  the  apostolate  marks  the  beginning  of  this 
long  second  period  and  is  indeed  a  typical  fact  in  Christ's  whole 
ministry.  But  let  us  not  fall  into  the  error,  wisely  avoided  by 
Canon  Gore  in  his  book  on  The  Churcli  arid  the  Ministry,  of  regard- 
ing it  as  the  founding  of  the  church  —  as  the  first  step  taken  by 
Christ  in  the  organization  of  the  new  society.  The  true  begin- 
ning of  its  corporate  life,  externally  as  well  as  internally,  is  to 
be  carried  back  to  an  earlier  stage  in  the  history.  The  first  trace 
of  corporate  form  in  the  spiritual  organism  of  Christianity  was 
the  institution  of  baptism  ;  the  process  of  organic  differentiation 
began  there.  Thus  the  apostolate  was  not  the  genetic  nucleus 
of  the  church.  Neander's  position  on  this  question  is  an  impugn- 
able one  ;  the  Twelve  were  organs  and  representatives  of  a  body 
.already  in  process  of  formation. 

For  let  us   remember  what  had   taken   place  during  the  two 


450  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD, 

years  of  evangelization.  There  had  been  formed  two  more  or 
less  distinctly  marked  circles  of  Christ's  disciples.  First,  as  the 
result  of  the  united  work  of  John  and  Christ,  a  numerous  aggre- 
gate of  baptized  believers  in  various  parts  of  Judca,  besides  many 
Galileans  who  were  waiting  in  faith  for  the  coming  of  the  king- 
dom. Second,  an  inner  circle  of  those  who  had  from  time  to 
time  heard  the  word,  Follow  nic  —  had  attached  themselves  to 
his  person  and  were  his  companions  during  portions  of  his  min- 
istry. It  is  these  who  are  frequently  referred  to  as  "the  disci- 
ples" or  "his  disciples,"  often  when  the  narrative  makes  it  evi- 
dent that  a  larger  body  than  the  Twelve  is  implied.  Many  of 
the  Seventy  were  doubtless  taken  from  this  circle  of  discij^lcs. 

Now,  with  the  choosing  of  the  Twelve,  a  still  closer  circle  is 
formed,  its  number  suggesting  a  theocratic  polity  ;  thus  more 
visibly  than  upon  any  one  previous  occasion,  the  new  kingdom 
was  taking  form. 

Our  space  limit  forbids  following  the  formative  })rocess  on 
through  the  entire  history.  It  is  the  distinguishing  feature  of 
the  Galilean,  and  indeed  of  the  whole  middle  period  of  the  min- 
istry. The  apostle  John,  in  the  doxology  with  which  he  opens 
the  Apocalypse,  has  furnished  its  appropriate  motto:  "He  made 
us  to  be  a  kingdom." 

3.  Rcdonption.  The  third  period  is  that  of  the  passion  week 
and  the  forty  days.  Christ's  public  ministry  to  the  Jewish  peo- 
ple ended  with  Tuesday  of  the  passion  week,  when  he  left  the 
temple  for  the  last  time,  but  his  ministry  of  self-revelation  to 
his  j^eople  of  the  new  convenant  continued  until  "the  day  when 
he  was  taken  up." 

Less  than  seven  weeks,  but  how  eventful  !  It  deserves 
attention  that  nearly  one-third  of  the  entire  gosj)el  narrative  is 
devoted  to  the  passion  week  alone.  Space  cannot  here  be 
taken  even  to  enumerate  the  decisive  events  anil  utterances,  so 
swiftly  does  act  follow  act  in  the  inonK-nlous  drama. 

The  scene  for  the  most  j)art  is  Jerusalem.  Christ's  evangel- 
izing ministry  covered  all  Palestine;  the  founding  of  the  church 
is  chiefly  associated  with  Galilee  ;  tin-  niial  eontliet  and  victory 
must  take  jjlace  in  tin-  llolv  Citv-  -tlu'  Cily  ot  tin-  Great   King. 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  CHRIST. 


451 


Three  events  stand  out  conspicuous  —  the  crucifixion,  the 
resurrection,  the  exaltation  ;  a  scriptural  abridgment,  so  to  speak, 
of  the  last  days.  Indeed,  these  three  events  became  in  apostolic 
thought  almost  a  summary  of  the  life  of  Christ  —  the  very 
essence  of  historical  Christianity. 


BETHANY 


What  now  is  the  master  thought  of  this  last  period,  the  key 
to  this  part  of  the  plan  ?  The  s-tudent  of  the  New  Testament  is 
not  left  in  doubt  as  to  the  true  answer — -Redemption.  He  who 
alone  could  furnish  an  authoritative  answer  spoke  it  as  he  was 
approaching  the  Holy  City.  "  For  the  Son  of  man  came  not  to 
be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister,  and  to  give  his  life  a  ransom 
{XvTfiov)  for  many."  Apostolic  thought  grasped  this  clue  firmly 
from  first  to  last.  So  Peter  :  "  Ye  were  redeemed  .  .  .  with 
precious  blood  .  .  .  even  the  blood  of  Christ."  So  Paul  to  the 
Ephesians:  "  In  whom  we  have  our  redemption  through  his  blood." 
So  the  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  :     "  But  Christ  .   .   . 


452  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

through  his  own  blood  entered  in  once  for  all  into  the  holy  place, 
having  obtained  eternal  redemption."  And  finally  John,  from 
the  heights  of  Patmos,  in  the  words  of  the  doxologv  cited 
above  :  "  Unto  him  that  loveth  us,  and  loosed  us  ( eAt'o-ev.  set  free, 
a  verb  cognate  to  the  noun  above)  from  our  sins  by  his  blood,  to 
him  be  the  glory  and  the  dominion  for  ever  and  ever." 

These  Last  Days  begin  with  conflict  and  end  with  \ictory. 
One  of  the  tasks  of  Christian  thought  is  to  penetrate  to  the  mean- 
ing of  these  varied  experiences  of  conflict,  suffering,  and  death 
bv  which  redemption  was  accomplished.  "  Consider  him  that 
hath  endured  such  gainsaying  of  sinners  ;"  this  exhortation  of 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  which  indeed  is  a  running  commen- 
tary on  the  redemptive  aspect  of  the  ministry,  applies  especially  to 
the  Last  Days.  History  as  well  as  art  helps  to  set  in  a  vivid  light, 
the  moral  majesty  of  the  Redcemcr-Prince  as  first  in  the  Temple 
on  the  Monday  and  Tuesday  of  the  Passion  week,  and  then  dur- 
ing the  trial  on  Friday,  he  confronts  his  adversaries  —  that  com- 
pactly organized  hagiocracy,  priestly  and  Pharisaic,  imposing  in 
its  wealth  and  aristocratic  prestige,  and  in  spite  of  its  degeneracy 
so  ]30werful,  morally  and  intellectually,  as  to  shape  at  times  the 
whisper  of  the  imperial  throne.  Upon  these  scenes  history  has 
thrown  its  light  ;  there  are  others  before  which  its  torch  burns 
dim.  Presences  from  the  unseen  world  take  part  ;  moral  forces 
come  into  play  whose  measure  it  cannot  take.  "  What  do  they 
mean,"  said  Luther,  pausing  o\er  the  story  of  Gethscmane, 
"What  kind  of  words  are  these,  'My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful 
even  unto  death  '  ?  1  hokl  these  for  the  greatest  words  in  the 
whole  Bible." 

But  mysteries  meet  us  not  in  Gethscmane  onl\-,  hut  at  the 
cross  and  the  emj)ty  tomb,  mysteries  which  the  evangelists  do  not 
pause  in  their  singularly  objective  narrative  to  explain,  and  which 
would  beutterlv  insoluble,  but  for  the  copious  interpretation  in 
the  subsecjuent  i»ages  of  the  New  Testanient,  renderinginorr  than 
one  obscure  fact  luminously  intelligible  to  Christian  faith.  Anil 
as  with  the  narrative  of  cr)nflict  and  suffering,  so  also  is  it  with 
that  of  the  victory  and  triumph — the  resurrection,  the  bodily 
rcapj)earances,  and  the  ascension  from  ()li\cl.      The  dynamics  of 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  CHRIST. 


453 


the  resurrection  life  can  be  made   rational    only    in    the   light   of 
revelation. 

If  it  be  said  that  the  foregoing  exposition  has  gradually  shifted 
its  point  of  view,  and  professing  to  be  historical  has  become  theo- 
logical, in  a  sense  it  is  true.  But  the  events  of  these  Last  Days 
in  a  preeminent  sense  lie   on   the  boundary  of  two   worlds,   the 


GETHSEMANE  AND  THE   MOUNT  OF  OLIVES. 

seen  and  the  unseen.  The  history  that  does  not  sit  at  the  feet 
of  revelation  can  never  hope  to  interpret  them,  or  even  the  life 
of  Christ  at  all. 

Neander  has  eloquently  and  truly  said  at  the  close  of  his 
Life  of  Christ:  "The  end  of  Christ's  appearance  on  the  earth 
corresponds  to  its  beginning.  No  link  in  its  chain  of  supernat- 
ural facts  can  be  lost  without  taking  away  its  significance  as  a 
whole.  Christianity  rests  upon  these  facts,  stands  or  falls  with 
them.  By  faith  in  them  has  the  divine  life  been  generated 
from  the  beginning.      By  faith  in  them   has    that   life  in  all  ages 


4  54  THE  BrBLICAL   WORLD. 

regenerated  mankind,  raised  them  above  the  limits  of  earthly 
life,  changed  them  from  glehae  ndscriptis  to  citizens  of  heaven, 
and  formed  the  stage  of  transition  from  an  existence  chained 
to  nature  to  a  free  celestial  life  raised  far  above  it.  Were  this 
faith  gone,  there  might  indeed  remain  many  of  the  effects  of 
what  Christianity  had  been  ;  but  as  for  Christianity  in  the  true 
sense,  as  for  a  Christian  church,  there  could  be  none." 


THE    TEACHING  OF  CHRIST  IN  THE    GOSPELS  OF 
MATTHEW,  MARK,  AND  LUKE.' 


By   Professor    Alexander   Balmain   Bruce,   D.  D., 
Free  Church  College,  Glasgow. 


Groups  of  New  Testameiit  books  representing  distinctive  types  of  Christian 
thought—  The  teaching  of  fesus  as  presented  in  the  synoptic  gospels :  —  The 
Kingdo7n  of  God ;  the  Fatherhood  of  God ;  the  inestimable  value  of  man  ; 
righteousness,  and  the  relation  of  faith  and  conduct  to  it ;  fesus'  view  of  him- 
self; his  teaching  concerning  his  own  experience ;  the  necessity  and  value  of 
suffering. 

Among  the  writings  that  make  up  the  New  Testament  there 
are  certain  books  or  groups  of  books  that  are  distinguished  from 
the  rest  by  peculiarities  of  thought  and  speech  on  the  great 
theme  of  all  the  books,  the  good  that  came  to  the  world  through 
Jesus  Christ.  They  differ  in  this  respect,  not  only  from  the 
other  books  but  from  each  other.  The  books,  or  groups  of 
books,  referred  to  present  what  we  may  call  distinctive  concep- 
tions of  Christianity ;  so  many  varied  types  or  aspects  of  the 
common  gospel.  The  books  I  mean  are  the  first  three  gospels, 
the  leading  epistles  of  St.  Paul,  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  and 
the  fourth  gospel  bearing  the  name  of  John.  No  thoughtful 
reader,  even  though  he  be  not  a  theological  expert,  can  fail  to 
notice  that  these  books,  as  compared  with  the  rest,  are  full  of 
deep  thought  on  the  subject  of  religion,  as  distinct  from  mere 
historical  narrative  such  as  you  can  find  in  the  Book  of  Acts,  and 
from  practical  exhortations  to  godly  living  such  as  form  the  bulk 
of  the  epistles  of  Peter  and  James.  And  it  is  equally  noticeable 
that  the  thinking  is  not  all  of  the  same  cast,  that  there  is  one 
way  of  thinking  in  the  words  of  Jesus  as  reported  in  the  first 
three  gospels,  another  in  Paul's  epistles  to  the  Galatian,  Corin- 
thian, and  Roman  Churches,  a  third  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
and  a  fourth  in  the  fourth  gospel. 

'  This  is  the  first  of  four  articles  to  appear  in  the  Biblical  World  on  Four 
Types  of  Christian  Thought  in  the  New  Testament. 

455 


456  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

These  four  types  of  Christian  thought  it  ought  to  be  worth 
our  while  to  study.  Yet  diversity  of  opinion  on  this  point  is 
not  inconceiyable.  The  man  who  looks  at  the  Scriptures  from  a 
purely  practical  point  of  yiew — the  pastor,  c.  g.,  whose  interest 
is  in  homiletics,  not  in  biblical  theology — may  think  it  his  duty 
to  ignore  these  distinctions,  or  if  that  be  impossible,  to  reduce 
their  extent  and  significance  to  a  minimum.  His  desire  is  to 
find  one  uniform  gospel  in  the  New  Testament,  not  a  gospel  with 
four  phases  or  faces,  still  less  four  gospels  that  cannot  be  recon- 
ciled with  one  another.  With  this  \^'~,\.  pinin  dcsidcriiini  \\q  c2iXv 
all  sympathize,  as  we  probabh'  all  believe  that  it  finds  satisfac- 
tion in  the  writings  concerned.  Few  now  accept  the  dictum  of 
Dr.  Baur  that  in  the  New  Testament  is  to  be  found  not  only 
variety  but  contradiction.  But  short  of  contradiction  there  may 
be  very  interesting  variety  which  it  would  repay  not  only  the 
biblical  scholar  but  the  preacher  to  become  acquainted  with. 
Noting  such  a  variety  must  at  the  least  lend  to  the  books  in 
which  it  appears,  ^picturesque  interest,  the  attraction  that  belongs 
to  well  defined  iiulividuality.  It  may  also  turn  out  that  the 
books  so  individualized,  while  not  contradicting,  supj^lement 
each  other,  so  that  from  all  taken  together  in  their  unmitigated 
distinctiveness,  we  can  gather  a  larger,  fuller,  more  many-sided 
view  of  the  gospel  than  it  is  possible  to  obtain  from  any  one  of 
them.  With  this  conviction  I  propose  to  make  in  four  papers 
an  elementary  study  on  the  books  I  have  named.  And  first  on 
the  Synopticiil  Gospels,  as  the  first  three  gospels  are  named  by 
scholars  because  of  their  resemblance  to  each  other. 

In  these  gospels  one  expression  occurs  more  frequently  than 
in  any  other  part  of  the  New  Testament — The  Kingdom  of  God, 
or  as  it  is  usually  given  in  Matthew,  TJic  Kingdom  of  Heaven.  It 
occurs  so  often  as  to  suggest  the  inference  that  it  was  Christ's 
name  for  the  highest  good,  the  great  divine  boon  he  came  to  pro- 
claim and  bestow.  The  good  news  of  Goil,  the  g()si)cl  he  had 
to  preach,  the  synoj^tists  being  witness,  was  that  the  kingdom  ot 
God  was  come.  What  he  meant  thereby  is  nowhere  formally  and 
precisely  ex|)lained.  Jesus  gave  no  abstract  definitions  of  terms 
such  as  we  are  accustonu-d  to;    luithcr  of   the   kiugdom   of  God, 


THE  TEACHING  OF  CHRIST.        .  457 

nor  of  his  name  for  God,  Father,  nor  of  his  favorite  name  for 
himself.  Son  of  Ma7i.  He  defined  simply  by  discriminating  use, 
introducing  his  leading  words  and  phrases  in  suggestive  connec- 
tions of  thought  which  would  gradually  familiarize  hearers  at 
once  with  word  and  with  meaning.  One  clue  to  the  sense  of 
Christ's  great  words  is,  of  course,  Old  Testament  prophecy. 
With  the  oracles  of  Hebrew  prophets  he  was  very  familiar ;  with 
the  bright  hopes  these  expressed  he  was  in  full  sympathy,  and 
by  their  graphic  forcible  language  his  own  diction  was  colored. 
But  these  oracles,  nevertheless,  must  be  used  with  caution  as  a 
key  to  the  interpretation  of  his  words.  For  Jesus  was  in  a 
marked  degree  original,  putting  new  meanings  into  old  phrases, 
and  so  transforming  many  current  conceptions  that,  while  the 
words  were  the  same,  the  sense  was  widely  different.  In  his 
time  and  in  the  land  of  Israel,  all  men  who  professed  religion 
talked  about  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  John,  surnamed  the  Baptist, 
the  teachers  in  the  Jewish  schools  called  Rabbis,  and  the  very 
strict  people  called  Pharisees.  The  dialect  was  one  but  the 
meaning  various.  The  Baptist  meant  one  thing,  the  Pharisees 
another,  and  Jesus  meant  something  very  different  from  either. 
The  expression  in  itself  is  vague  and  elastic  and  leaves  room  for 
differences  in  sense  as  wide  as  between  political  and  ethical  or 
spiritual,  national  and  universal. 

Leaving  Rabbis  and  Pharisees  out  of  account,  it  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  discriminate  between  the  Baptist's  conception  and  that 
of  Jesus.  The  difference  may  be  broadly  put  thus  :  In  John's 
mouth  the  announcement  that  the  kingdom  was  coming  was 
awful  news,  in  the  mouth  of  Jesus  good  news.  John  sought  to 
scare  people  into  repentance  by  talking  to  them  of  an  axe  that 
was  to  be  employed  by  a  great  coming  One  to  cut  down  barren 
fruit  trees,  and  a  fan  to  winnow  wheat  and  chaff,  and  of  fire  and 
judgment  that  were  to  sweep  away  and  consume  all  chaff-like 
men.  Jesus,  on  the  other  hand,  went  about  among  the  svna- 
gogues  of  Galilee  speaking  about  the  kingdom  in  a  way  that  did 
not  terrify  but  win,  awakening  trust  and  hope  even  among  the 
irreligious  and  immoral.  People  marveled  at  the  "words  of 
grace"  which  proceeded   out   of  his  mouth  (Luke  4:22).      Cor- 


458  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

responding  to  this  difference  in  the  preaching,  was  the  difference 
in  religious  temper  prevailing  among  the  disciples  of  the  two 
Masters.  John's  disciples  were  a  sad  company ;  they  fasted 
often  and  made  many  prayers  on  an  ascetic  method.  The  dis- 
ciples of  Jesus  did  not  fast.  They  were  in  no  fasting  mood  ; 
they  rather  resembled  a  wedding  party,  as  Jesus  himself  hinted 
in  the  parable  of  the  children  of  the  bride-chamber,  spoken  in 
defense  of  his  disciples  for  neglect  of  fasts  observed  both  by  the 
disciples  of  John  and  by  the  Pharisees  (Matt.  9:  15). 

Probably  the  surest  guide  to  Christ's  idea  of  the  kingdom, 
and  the  most  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  happy  mood  of 
those  who  accepted  his  evangel,  is  to  be  found  in  the  name  he 
gave  to  God,  "  Father."  We  do  not  indeed  find  anywhere  in  the 
gospels  a  saying  of  Jesus  formally  connecting  the  two  words 
"kingdom"  and  "  Father"  as  mutually  interpretative  terms.  As 
Jesus  did  not  deal  in  abstract  definitions,  so  as  little  did  he  think 
in  system.  He  did  not  say  to  his  disciples:  "My  gospel  is  the 
announcement  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand,  and  what 
I  mean  by  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  :  God  obtaining  sovereign 
influence  over  human  hearts  by  paternal  love  in  virtue  of  which 
he  calls  all  men,  even  the  basest,  his  sons,  freely  pardons  their 
offenses,  and  invites  them  to  participate  in  fullest  family  privi- 
lege and  fellowship."  But  when  you  find  an  unsystematic  reli- 
gious teacher  using  constantly  two  words  representing  two  car- 
dinal religious  ideas,  you  cannot  help  concluding  that  a  real, 
radical,  if  unexpressed,  synthesis  unites  them  in  his  mind,  and 
that  kingdom  and  fatherhood,  though  formally  as  distinct  as  a 
kingdom  and  a  family,  are  for  him  only  different  names  for  the 
same  thing.  The  king  rules  by  paternity  and  the  father  by  his 
love  becomes  king. 

The  frcfjucncy  with  which  the  name  Father  is  a[)plicd  to  God 
is  a  characteristic  of  the  syno])tic  gosj)c!s  as  compared  with  the 
other  books  of  the  New  Testament.  It  occvns  no  loss  than 
fifteen  times  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  And  the  reference 
of  the  name,  in  manv  instances  at  least,  is  to  a  relation  between 
God  and  men.  Tlic  standing  j)hrasc  in  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount    is  jw/r  Father  ox  tliy  Father.      \\\   tin-  louitli    gospel    it   is 


THE  TEACHING  OF  CHRIST.  459 

Otherwise.  The  prevailing  expression  there  is  the  Father,  as  if 
pointing  to  a  unique  exclusive  divine  relation  between  God  and 
Jesus,  theological  rather  than  human.  The  humanity  of  the 
divine  fatherhood  in  the  first  three  gospels  is  very  wide,  embrac- 
ing not  only  disciples,  though  they  are  sons  in  the  first  rank,  but 
men  indiscriminately,  publicans,  sinners,  evil  as  well  as  good, 
just  as  well  as  unjust  (Matt.  5:45),  prodigals  all,  nevertheless 
sons.  This  also  is  changed  in  the  fourth  gospel.  The  sons  of 
God  there  are  believers  in  Jesus,  born  of  the  spirit ;  all  others 
are  simply  sons  of  the  evil  one. 

Along  with  the  synoptic  account  of  Christ's  idea  of  God  goes 
an  equally  characteristic  view  of  his  idea  of  man.  From  the 
former  we  could  have  inferred  what  the  latter  must  have 
been,  even  in  absence  of  interpretative  texts.  If  all  men  even 
at  the  lowest  be  God's  sons,  recipients  of  his  providential 
benefits,  objects  of  his  gracious  paternal  solicitude  for  their 
highest  spiritual  well-being,  what  worth  man  even  at  the  worst 
must  have  for  God  and  ought  to  have  for  himself  and  for  fellow- 
men  !  The  doctrine  of  the  divine  Father  says  to  all  who  have 
ears  to  hear :  Let  it  never  be  forgotten  that  every  man  even  at 
the  lowest  has  that  in  him  which  has  inestimable  value  for  God  ; 
therefore  let  no  man  despair  of  himself,  and  let  no  man  in  pride 
despise  his  degraded  brothers.  But  Jesus  did  not  leave  so 
important  a  truth  to  be  a  matter  of  logical  inference  from 
another  truth.  He  expressly  affirmed  man's  absolute  infinite 
significance.  But  he  did  this  in  his  own  inimitable  way,  quaint, 
kindly,  pathetic  and  even  humorous.  Instead  of  saying  in  philo- 
sophic terms :  "  Man  possesses  absolute  worth,"  he  quaintly 
asked  :  "  Is  not  man  (any  man)  better  (of  more  importance)  than 
flowers,  fowls  of  the  air,  sparrows,  than  a  sheep  or  an  ox,  or 
even  a  whole  world  ?"  The  very  inadequacy  of  most  of  these 
comparisons  invests  them  with  pathos  and  power.  "Of  more 
value  than  many  sparrows !"  Men,  in  the  weakness  of  their 
trust,  and  in  the  depressing  sense  of  their  insignificance,  need 
such  humble  estimates  to  help  them  rise  to  higher  faith  and 
bolder  self-respect,  and  the  use  of  them  by  Jesus  is  signal  evi- 
dence  of  his   deep   sympathy  and   also   of  his  poetic   tact  and 


460  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

felicitv.  I  value  greatly  these  simple  naive  cjuestions  of  Jesus 
preserved  for  us  in  the  svnoptic  gospels  as  a  contribution  to  the 
doctrine  of  man.  There  is  nothing  like  them  elsewhere  in  the 
New  Testament ;  nothing  so  good,  so  expressive  and  impressive, 
so  suggestive,  so  humanely  sympathetic,  so  quietly,  yet  severely 
condemnatory  of  all  low  unloving  estimates  of  human  worth. 
Compare  with  these  questions  of  Jesus,  Paul's  "Doth  God  take 
care  for  oxen?"  Jesus  could  not  have  asked  that  question  with 
an  implied  negative  in  his  mind.  His  doctrine  was:  "God  does 
care  even  for  oxen,  but  for  men  more." 

One  of  the  great  key-words  of  the  Bible  throughout  is  right- 
eousness. Prophets,  apostles,  Jesus,  Paul,  all  use  the  word 
and  mean  bv  it  in  tJic  inain  the  same  thing ;  yet  not  without 
shades  of  difference.  In  the  synoptic  account  of  Christ's  teach- 
ing, the  idea  of  righteousness  occupies  a  very  j)rominent  place. 
The  aim  of  a  great  part  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  to  deter- 
mine what  the  true  idea  of  righteousness  is.  Here  again  we 
may  assume  that  in  the  mind  of  Jesus  the  ideas  of  kingdom, 
father,  righteousness  were  so  closelv  related,  that  having  once 
ascertained  what  he  meant  by  any  one  of  the  terms  you  could 
determine  for  yourself  the  meaning  of  the  other  two.  We  find 
all  three  ideas  connected  together  in  the  text  "Seek  ye  his  (the 
father's)  kingdom  and  righteousness"  (Matt.  6:33).  Seeing 
then,  that  the  kingdom  is  the  kingdom  of  the  Father,  therefore, 
a  kingdom  of  love,  it  may  be  inferred  that  the  righteousness  of 
the  kingdom,  in  the  conception  of  Jesus,  is,  to  begin  with,  a 
righteousness  of  trustful  surrender  to  the  loving  kindness  of  the 
Father  in  heaven.  It  is  not  a  legal  righteousness  as  between  two 
persons  one  of  wlioni  makes  a  demand  which  the  other  strives  to 
com]»l\-  with.  It  is  on  man's  part  towards  God  trust  in  liis 
benignant  grace.  God  gives,  we  receive  ;  and  receiving  is  our 
righteousness  towards  the  divine  gixer,  whereby  we  give  God 
credit  for  i)ciiigiiity  and  cherish  toward  him  llu-  lot'liiig  sucli  an 
attribute  inspires.  .Such  trust  in  our  ileavenly  Father,  we  inler, 
must  be  a  fjuite  fundamental  element  in  the  righteousness  of  the 
kingdom.  Do  the  evangelic  texts  hear  out  this  inference? 
They  do.      In  tiie  synojttic  records  of  onr  I  .onl's  words,//////  hoUls 


THE  TEACHING  OF  CHRIST.  46 1 

a  prominent  place.  "I  have  not  found  so  great  faith,  no,  not  in 
Israel."  "Thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole."  "O  woman,  great 
is  thy  faith  ;  be  it  unto  thee  as  thou  wilt,"  and  so  on.  We  may 
say  that  faith  was  Christ's  watchword,  as  repentance  was  John's. 
Very  significant  in  connection  with  Christ's  conception  of  right- 
eousness is  the  saying,  —  one  of  the  most  remarkable  as  well  as 
most  indubitably  authentic  in  the  records  —  "I  came  not  to  call 
the  righteous  but  sinners."  It  was  spoken  in  connection  with 
the  censured  festive  meeting  with  the  publicans  of  Capernaum, 
and  the  word  "call"  must  therefore  be  taken  in  a  kindred  sense 
as  denoting  an  invitation  to  a  feast.  That  is  to  say,  Jesus  con- 
ceived of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  the  siimnmm  bomim,  for  the 
moment,  as  a.  feast,  and  from  that  point  of  view  the  one  thing 
required  of  those  who  are  called  is  readiness  to  respond  to  the 
invitation.  That  redeeming  virtue  even  publicans  and  sinners 
may  possess.  In  this  one  point  they  may  leave  hopelessly 
behind  far  more  reputable  persons,  the  "righteous"  as  judged 
by  current  standards.  They  actually  did,  Jesus  himself  being 
witness.  That  was  why  he  said  :  "  I  came  not  to  call  the  right- 
eous but  sinners."  He  found  that  the  "righteous,"  however  good 
and  worthy  they  might  be,  did  not  come  to  his  call,  while  the 
"sinners"  did.  And  he  counted  the  coming  of  the  sinners  for 
righteousness.  It  was  the  one  bit  of  righteousness  still  possible 
to  them.  However  bad  they  might  be  otherwise,  they  could 
believe  in  the  goodwill  of  God  even  to  the  like  of  them.  They 
might  have  been  with  equal  impartiality  breakers  of  the  Ten 
Commandments  and  of  the  commandments  of  the  scribes,  yet 
you  could  not  say  there  was  no  root  of  goodness  in  men  who 
received  the  tidings  of  a  Father  capable  of  loving  such  scandal- 
ous reprobates.  In  intrinsic  value  and  in  promise  for  the  future, 
that  receptivity  of  the  worthless  might  outweigh  the  abounding 
moral  respectabilities  of  the  worthy. 

Of  course  we  do  not  expect  to  find  that  this  initial  righteous- 
ness of  the  sinful  is  a  full  inventory  of  the  righteousness  of  the 
kingdom  as  set  forth  in  the  teaching  of  Jesus.  Prodigal  sons  do 
well  in  returning  to  the  Father's  house,  but  once  there  it  will  be 
expected   of  them    that   they  shall  live   a   truly  filial    life.      The 


462  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

teaching  of  Jesus,  as  reported  by  the  synoptists,  supplies  ample 
materials  for  constructing  the  ideal  of  that  life.  The  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  is  especially  rich  in  such  material.  The  body  of 
the  discourse  is  really  a  portrayal  in  a  series  of  tableaus  of 
filial  righteousness.  The  artist  has  employed  for  his  purpose  the 
method  of  contrast,  using  the  righteousness  in  vogue,  that  of  the 
scribes  and  Pharisees,  as  a  foil  to  show  forth  the  beauty  of  the 
true  moral  ideal.  Jesus  had  never,  like  the  apostle  Paul,  been  a 
disciple  of  the  scribes,  and  the  fact  is  of  much  significance  in 
connection  with  the  difference  perceptible  between  his  concep- 
tion of  righteousness  and  that  of  the  apostle.  He  had  never,  I 
sav,  been  a  disciple  of  the  scribes,  but  he  had  evidently  been  a 
faithful  student  oi  their  ways.  Witness  the  vivid  delineations  of 
their  moral  characteristics  in  the  gospels,  which,  taken  together, 
constitute  Christ's  negative  doctrine  of  righteousness,  setting 
forth  what  the  righteousness  of  the  kingdom  is  not.  There  is 
much  of  this  negative  doctrine  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  for 
not  otherwise  than  by  the  method  of  comparison  could  the 
preacher  have  made  his  meaning  clear  to  his  hearers.  But  we 
may  disregard  the  contrast  and  state  in  positive  terms  the  drift 
of  the  Teaching  on  the  Hill  on  the  subject  of  righteousness.  It 
may  be  summed  up  in  two  words :  be  to  God  all  that  a  son 
should  be  to  a  father ;  treat  fellow  men  as  brethren.  Unfolded, 
the  first  word  means:  seek  your  Father's  honor  (Matt.  5:16); 
imitate  his  character,  even  in  its  most  sublime  virtues,  such  as 
magnanimity  (5:45,  48);  trust  his  providence  (6:25  f.);  cherish 
towards  him  as  your  Father  in  Heaven  sincere  reverence,  mani- 
festing itself  in  devout  adoration  and  humble  petitions  (6:9  f.); 
value  supremely  his  judgment  which  looks  into  the  heart  of  things 
and  not  merelv  at  the  surface;  so  shunning  vulgar  ostentation, 
religious  parade,  in  almsgiving,  fasting,  i)raying,  and  the  like, 
with  insatiable  appetite  for  the  good  oj)inion  of  men  (6  :  1-6). 
Similarly  unfolded,  the  second  word  means  :  be  not  content  with 
merely  not  killing  a  fellow  man  ;  cherish  toward  him  as  a  brother 
a  love  which  shall  make  it  impossible  to  hate  him  or  despise  him 
(5:21  f.);  be  not  satisfied  witii  abstaining  from  acts  of  impurity 
towards  a  woman,  regard  her  as  a  sister  wIkjsc  honor  shall  be  for 


THE  TEACHING  OF  CHRIST  463 

thyself  inviolable  even  in  thought,  and  in  reference  to  others  an 
object  of  zealous  defense  (5  :  27  f.).  Be  not  the  slave  of  legal 
claims  :  an  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth.  Assert  your 
moral  rights  by  renouncing  your  legal  ones,  refusing  to  be  pro- 
voked into  retaliation  by  any  amount  of  injustice  or  unbrotherli- 
ness  (5:38f.).  Acquiesce  in  no  conventional  classification  of 
men  as  friends  and  foes,  neighbors  and  enemies ;  let  all  be 
friends  and  neighbors,  or  let  foes  and  strangers  be  distinguished 
as  the  objects  of  a  more  chivalrous  love,  so  overcoming  evil  with 
an  absolutely  invincible  good  (5  :43  f.). 

More  might  be  said  on  the  topic  of  righteousness.  In  the 
synoptical  account  of  our  Lord's  teaching  the  righteousness  of 
the  kingdom  is  sometimes  presented  under  the  aspect  of  single- 
hearted  absolute  devotion  to  the  interests  of  the  kingdom,  or  to 
the  will  of  its  king.  Contenting  myself  with  simply  hinting  this, 
I  go  on  to  notice  in  the  last  place  the  account  given  in  the  first 
three  gospels  of  Christ's  way  of  speaking  concerning  himself. 

The  synoptical  evangelists  do  not  conceal  their  conviction 
that  the  subject  of  their  narrative  is  a  great  personage.  They 
hold  a  creed  about  him,  viz.,  that  he  is  the  person  in  whom  were 
fulfilled  the  messianic  hopes  of  the  Jews.  And  they  all  further 
represent  Jesus  himself  as  holding  this  view  of  his  own  vocation. 
Yet  they  are  careful  to  make  it  plain  that  Jesus  did  not  parade 
this  claim,  but  kept  it  well  in  the  background,  as  if  it  were  a 
secret  not  to  be  promulgated  till  its  true  significance  could  be 
understood.  The  Jesus  of  the  synoptists  puts  on  no  grand  airs, 
but  is  a  meek  and  lowlv  man.  The  meek  and  lowly  mind  of 
Jesus  found  its  verbal  svmbol  in  the  oft-used  self-designation 
Son  of  Man.  For  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  it  is  in  this  direc- 
tion we  must  look  for  the  true  meaning  of  the  name.  Jesus 
nowhere  defines  its  meaning,  anv  more  than  he  defines  the  name 
he  gave  to  God.  Here,  as  always,  he  defines  only  by  discrim- 
inating use.  We  must  listen  attentively  as  he  calls  himself 
"Son  of  Man,"  and  strive  to  catch  the  sense  of  the  title  from  the 
tone  and  accent  of  the  speaker.  To  do  this  successfully  wants 
a  -fine,  sensitive,  sympathetic  ear,  unfilled  with  other  sounds 
which   blunt   its    perceptive   faculty.      For  lack  of  such   an    ear. 


464  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

men  may  get  verv  false  impressions  and  read  all  sorts  of  mean- 
ings into  the  sinn:)le  |)hrase,  meanings  laboriously  collected  from 
Old  Testament  texts  or  suggested  by  s\'stems  of  theology.  To 
my  ear  the  title  s[)eaks  of  one  who  is  symjjathetic  and  un|)re- 
tentious  ;  loves  men  and  advances  no  ambitious  claims,  lie  may 
be  great  in  spite  of  himself,  by  his  gifts  and  graces  even  unique ; 
but  these  must  speak  for  themselves.  He  will  not  take  pains  to 
point  them  out,  or  adx'ertise  his  importance  as  their  possessor. 
The  Son  of  Man  is  the  Mini,  the  brother  of  men,  loving  humanity 
with  a  passionate  love  which  fits  him  to  be  the  world's  Christ, 
and  his  attitude  is  that  of  one  who  says:  "Discover  what  is 
deepest  in  me  and  draw  your  own  inference." 

The  faithful  preservation  of  this  name,  bearing  such  an 
import,  by  the  synoptical  evangelists  is  a  ser\'ice  deserving  the 
gratitude  of  Christendom.  It  is  not  to  be  found  elsewhere  in 
the  New  Testament,  at  hurst  in  the  sirme  sense.  It  is  entirely 
absent  from  the  epistles.  It  occurs  frequently  in  the  fourth 
gospel,  but  in  novel  connections  of  thought,  as  a  foil  to  the 
divine  nature  of  the  Logos,  as  the  name  for  the  human  asj)ect  of 
Deity  incarnate,  theological  rather  than  ethical  in  its  connotation. 
We  worshijj  the  Son  of  Man  of  the  fourth  gosj)el  as  we  worshij) 
the  "Lord"  of  St.  Paul,  hut  we  love  as  our  brother  the  lowly, 
gracious,  winsome,  comratlc-like  .'^on  of  Man.  of  Matthew,  Mark, 
and  Luke.  We  refuse  not  the  worship,  but  we  wish  to  begin 
with  fellowshi])  on  e(]ual  terms,  as  if  we  belonged  to  the  inner 
Jesus-circle,  to  the  band  of  men  who  were  the  comj)anions  of  the 
Son  of  Man. 

We  have  to  note  finally  the  manner  in  which,  according  to 
the  synoptists,  Jesus  expressed  himself  concerning  his  experience. 
Now  as  to  this  I  remark,  in  the  first  place,  that  Jesus  seems  to 
have  |)ossessed  from  the  \'erv  beginning  of  his  public  life 
intuitive  insight  into  llie  truth  that  a  genuinLl\'  good,  godh-  life 
could  not  be  lived  in  tin-  world  without  trouble.  \\v  kiu-w 
the  world  he  li\'ed  in  so  well,  especially  tlu-  rt-ligious  world. 
that  tribulation,  contradiction,  malediction,  and  worse  appeared 
to  him  a  matter  of  course  for  any  oiu-  who  saw,  spoke, 
and    acted    in    accordance    with    the    real    truth    in    n-liijion    and 


THE  TEACHING  OF  CHRIST.  465 

morals.  This  was  plain  to  him,  I  believe,  before  he  left 
Nazareth  to  enter  on  his  prophetic  career.  His  anticipations 
were  very  soon  verified.  He  had  not  well  begun  his  minis- 
try before  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  began  to  watch  his 
movements  and  wait  for  his  halting.  Hence  those  significant 
hints  in  the  utterances  even  of  the  earlier  period  at  days  coming 
when  the  disciples  would  have  occasion  to  mourn  and  fast 
(Mark  2:20).  Jesus  divined  that  the  ill  will  already  manifest 
would  ere  long  ripen  into  murderous  purpose,  and  that  he  would 
become  the  victim  of  scribal  conceit  and  Pharisaic  malevolence. 
But  of  this,  always  clear  to  himself  he  spoke  to  his  disciples  at 
first  only  in  mystic,  veiled  language.  As  the  fatal  crisis  drew 
near,  he  began  to  speak  plainly,  realistically,  unmistakably,  of 
the  approaching  passion,  saying  that  "The  Son  of  Man  must 
suffer  many  things  and  be  rejected  of  the  elders  and  of  the 
chief  priests  and  scribes,  and  be  killed."  No  sooner  did  he 
begin  to  speak  thus  realistically  of  the  harsh  tragic  fact,  than  by 
way  of  reconciling  distressed  disciples  to  the  unwelcome  fact 
he  began  to  instruct  them  as  to  its  significance.  His  first  les- 
son on  the  import  of  the  passion  was  a  statement  to  the  effect 
that  his  coming  sufferings  were  no  isolated  phenomenon  in  the 
moral  universe,  but  only  a  signal  instance  of  the  operation  of  a 
universal  law  :  cross-bearing  inevitable  not  only  for  the  Master, 
but  for  all  faithful  disciples.  This  is  a  distinctive  contribution 
of  the  gospels  (including  John's)  to  the  doctrine  of  the  signifi- 
cance of  Christ's  death.  It  is  the  ethical  foundation  of  the  doc- 
trine on  which  all  theological  constructions  must  rest.  It  is 
not  found  in  Paul's  epistles,  in  which  the  sufferings  of  Christ  are 
regarded  as  sni  generis,  and  from  an  exclusively  theological  point 
of  view.  It  is  Christ's  answer  to  a  question  handed  down  from 
the  prophets:  Why  do  the  righteous  suffer?  His  reply  to  that 
question,  so  earnestly  and  yet  unsuccessfully  discussed  in  the 
Book  of  Job,  is,  in  the  first  place:  "They  suffer  just  because 
they  are  righteous  ;  their  tribulations  are  the  inevitable  reaction 
of  an  unrighteous  world  against  all  earnest  attempts  to  make 
God's  will  law  in  all  things."  But  this  reply  while  true,  can 
hardly  be  the  whole  truth.  It  is  not  much  of  a  comfort  to  be 
told   that  suffering  for   righteousness'   sake   is   inevitable.      One 


466  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

would  like  to  know  whether  the  inevitable  evil  can  in  any  way 
be  transmuted  into  good.  According  to  the  synoptical  reports 
Jesus  had  something  to  sav  on  that  cjucstion  also.  In  effect 
this  was  what  he  said  :  First,  it  would  turn  evil  into  good  for 
your  own  feeling,  if  you  could  once  for  all  cheerfully  accept 
cross-bearing  as  the  law  of  discij)leshi]),  and  take  suffering  not 
as  an  unavoidable,  unwelcome  calamity,  but  as  an  exhilarating 
experience  that  lifts  vou  into  the  heroic  region  of  freedom, 
buovancv,  and  irrepressible,  perj)etual  joy.  "Blessed  are  ye 
when  men  shall  persecute  you  ;  rejoice  and  be  exceeding  glad" 
(Matt.  5:11,  12).  Jesus  so  took  his  own  passion,  lo\'ingly, 
generously,  shedding  his  blood  as  Mary  shed  her  box  of  precious 
ointment  on  his  head  (Mark  14:8).  But,  secondly,  it  would 
still  more  turn  evil  into  good  if  one  could  be  assured  that  cross- 
bearing  brings  not  only  exaltation  of  feeling  to  the  sufferer,  but 
benefit  even  to  others,  even  to  those  who  laid  the  cross  on  your 
shoulders,  benefit  to  the  cause  for  which  you  suffer.  It  is  even 
so,  said  Jesus  in  effect  to  his  disciples  :  suffering  is  redemptive, 
it  is  tile  j)rice  one  pavs  for  power  to  benefit  the  world.  He 
affirmed  this  truth  in  reference  to  his  own  suffering  experience, 
in  two  texts,  both  of  which  may  be  confidently  accepted  as 
authentic.  "The  Son  of  Man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto 
but  to  minister  and  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many"  (Mark 
10:45);  "This  is  mv  blood  of  the  New  Testament  which  is 
shed  for  manv  for  the  remission  of  sins"  (Matt.  26:28). 
These  are  great,  broad  utterances,  suggesting  deep  questions 
which  theology  has  been  trying  to  answer  by  its  various  theories 
of  atonement.  Pending  a  final  answer  securing  universal  con- 
currence, this  nuich  is  clear  from  oui-  Lord's  words  :  that  his 
death  was  not  a  mere  fate  but  a  beneficent  event  serving  high 
ends  in  the  moral  order  of  the  world;  procuring  for  man  spirit- 
ual benefits.  It  is  a  legitimate  inference  that  to  sonn-  extent 
the  same  |)rinciple  applit-s  to  tlu'  sufferings  ot  the  righteous  in 
general,  and  that  no  sacrificial  lifr  is  in  \ain,  that  e\ery  such  life 
contributes  its  (]Uota  to  the  redem|)tiou  of  the  world.  Jesus  is 
the  Caj)tain  of  .Salvation  who  by  his  uuii|ui'  uK-rit  saxes  all.  But 
the  sa\'e(l  art'  in  turn  sa\iours  in  proportion  as  tluy  li\i'  and  die 
in  Christ's  s|)irit. 


THE  TEACHING  OF  CHRIST   IN  THE    GOSPEL  OF 

JOHN. 


By  Professor  Marcus  Dods,  D.D. 
New  College,  Edinburgh. 


The  trustworthiness  of  the  fourth  gospel — Differences  between  it  and  the 
synoptic  gospels —  Considerations  that  modify  the  significance  of  these  differ etices 

—  General  consistency  of  all  four  accounts —  Teachings  of  the  fourth  gospel  as 
to  the  divinity  of  fesus  —  Miracles  as  manifestations  and  occasions  of  teaching 

—  The  death  of  fesus  as  a  teaching —  Christ  and  mans  inner  life. 

The  title  of  this  paper  confronts  us  with  the  necessity  of 
enquiring  whether  the  discourses  and  sayings  of  Jesus  reported 
in  the  fourth  gospel  may  be  accepted  as  genuine  ;  whether,  in 
short,  there  are  any  "teachings  of  Christ"  in  the  Gospel  of  John. 
Many  critics  of  repute  have  held  and  hold  that  the  words  ascribed 
to  our  Lord  in  this  gospel  are  wholly  or  almost  wholly  fictitious. 
And  there  is  so  much  plausibility  in  what  they  adduce  in  support 
of  this  averment,  and  so  much  real  difficulty  in  the  way  of  accept- 
ing as  genuine  all  that  we  find  in  this  gospel  ascribed  to  Christ 
that  it  is  imperative  to  come  to  some  understanding  in  the  matter. 

What  test,  then,  can  we  apply  to  the  discourses  reported  in 
the  fourth  gospel ;  have  we  any  criterion  by  which  they  may 
be  judged?  The  reports  in  the  synoptic  gospels  at  once  suggest 
themselves  as  the  required  criterion.  Doubts  there  may  be 
regarding  the  very  words  ascribed  to  our  Lord  in  this  or  that 
passage  of  the  synoptists,  doubts  there  must  be  whether  we  are 
to  follow  Matthew  or  Luke  when  these  two  differ  ;  but  practically 
there  is  no  doubt  at  all  even  among  extreme  critics  that  we  may 
gather  from  those  gospels  a  clear  idea  both  of  the  form  and  of 
the  substance  of  our  Lord's  teaching. 

Now  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  comparison  of  the  fourth 
gospel  with  the  first  three  is  a  little  disconcerting.  For  it  is 
obvious  that  in  the  fourth  gospel  the  discourses  occupy  a  differ- 
ent  position,  and   differ   also   both  in   style   and  in   matter  from 

467 


468  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

those  recorded  in  the  svnoj)tical  gospels.  Thev  occupy  a  differ- 
ent position,  bulking  much  more  largely  in  proportion  to  the  nar- 
rati\e.  Indeed  the  narrative  portion  of  the  Gospel  of  John  may 
be  said  to  exist  for  the  sake  of  the  \'erbal  teaching.  The  mira- 
cles which  in  the  first  three  gospels  appear  as  the  beneficent  acts 
of  our  Lord  without  ulterior  motive  seem  in  the  fourth  gospel 
to  exist  for  the  sake  of  the  teaching  they  embody  and  the  dis- 
cussions they  give  rise  to.  Similarh',  the  ])ersons  introduced, 
such  as  Nicodemus,  are  viewed  chiefly  as  instrumental  in  elicit- 
ing from  Jesus  certain  sayings  and  are  themselves  forgotten  in 
the  conversation  they  have  suggested. 

In  form  the  teachings  recorded  in  Joint  conspicuously  differ 
from  those  recorded  by  the  other  evangelists.  They  present  our 
Lord  as  using  three  forms  of  teaching,  brief,  pregnant  aj)othegms, 
parables,  and  prolonged  ethical  addresses.  \\\  Joint,  it  is  alleged, 
the  parable  has  disappeared,  the  pointed  sayings  suitable  to  a 
popular  teacher  have  also  disappeared,  and  in  their  place  we  have 
prolonged  discussions,  self-defensive  explanations,  and  stern 
invectives.  As  Renan  says;  "This  fashion  of  ])reaching  and 
demonstrating  without  ceasing,  this  everlasting  argumentation, 
this  artificial  get-up,  these  long  discussions  following  each  mira- 
cle, these  discourses  stiff  and  awkward,  whose  tone  is  so  often 
false  and  unequal,  are  intolerable  to  a  man  of  taste  alongside  the 
delicious  sentences  of  the  synoptists." 

Even  more  marked  is  the  difference  in  the  substaitcc  of  the 
discourses.  hrom  the  synoptists  we  receixe  the  impression 
that  Jesus  was  a  genial,  ethical  teacher  who  spent  his  days 
among  the  common  people  exhorting  them  to  unworldliness,  to  a 
disregard  of  wealtli,  to  IJic  luiinhlc  and  patient  service  of  God  in 
love  to  their  fellow-men,  exposing  the  hollowness  of  much  that 
[massed  for  religion  and  seeking  to  inspire  all  men  with  firmer 
trust  in  (iod  as  their  I'"ather.  In  the  Gospel  of  John,  I  lis  own 
claims  arc  the  |)roinincnt  subject.  iii-  is  tlic  subject  matter 
taught  as  well  as  the  teacher.  The  kingdom  of  God  no  longer 
holds  the  j)lace  it  held  in  the  svnoj)tists  ;  it  is  the  Messiah  rather 
than  the  Messianic  kingdom  that  is  pressed  uj)()n  the  people. 

On  the  otlur  hand  it  has    l)een   urged    that  the  style   ascribed 


SISTINE    MADONNA. 


4/0  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

to  our  Lord  in  this  gospel  is  so  like  the  style  of  John  himself  as 
to  be  indistinguishable  ;  so  that  it  is  not  always  possible  to  say 
where  the  words  of  Jesus  end  and  the  words  of  John  begin  (see 
12:44;  3:18-21).  This  difficulty  may,  however,  be  put  aside, 
and  that,  for  more  reasons  than  one.  The  words  of  Jesus  are 
translated  from  the  vernacular  Aramaic  in  which  he  j^robablv 
uttered  them  and  it  was  impossible  thev  should  not  be  colored 
by  the  style  of  the  translator.  Besides,  there  are  obvious  differ- 
ences between  the  style  of  John  and  that  of  Jesus.  For  exam- 
ple, the  Epistle  of  John  is  singularly  abstract  and  devoid  of  illus- 
tration. James  abounds  in  figure,  and  so  does  Paul  ;  but  in 
John's  epistles  not  a  single  simile  or  metaphor  occurs.  Is  it 
credible  that  this  writer  was  the  author  of  the  richly  figurative 
teachings  in  the  loth  and  15th  chapters  of  the  gospel  (the 
shepherd  and  the  vine)? 

But  turning  to  the  real  differences  which  exist  between  the 
reports  of  the  first  three  and  the  fourth  gospel,  several  thoughts 
occur  which  at  least  take  off  the  edge  of  the  criticism  and  show 
us  that  on  a  point  of  this  kind  it  is  easy  to  be  hasty  and  extreme. 
For,  in  the  first  place,  it  is  to  be  considered  that  if  John  had  had 
nothing  new  to  tell,  no  fresh  aspect  of  Christ  or  his  teaching  to 
present,  he  would  not  have  written  at  all.  No  doubt  each  of  the 
synoptists  goes  over  ground  already  traversed  by  his  fellow- 
synoptist,  but  it  has  ^-et  to  be  proved  that  they  knew  one  anoth- 
er's work.  John  did  know  of  their  gospels,  and  the  ver}'  fact 
that  he  added  a  fourth  j)rcj)ares  us  to  expect  that  it  will  be 
different;  not  only  in  omitting  scenes  from  the  life  of  Christ 
with  wiiich  alrcadv  the  j)revi()us  gospels  had  made  men  familiar. 
but  by  ])resenting  some  new  aspect  of  Christ's  person  and  teach- 
ing. That  there  was  another  aspect  essential  to  the  eoni])lete- 
ness  of  the  figure  was,  as  Dean  Chadwick  has  pointed  out,  also 
to  be  surmised.  Tiie  synoj)tists  enable  us  to  conceixe  how 
Jesus  addressed  the  ]jeasantr\-  and  liow  lu'  dealt  with  the  Scribes 
of  Capernaum  ;  but,  after  all,  was  it  not  also  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance to  know  how  he  was  received  bv  the  authorities  of  Jerusa- 
lem and  how  he  met  their  difficulties  about  his  claims?  Had 
there  been  no  record  of   tluse   defenses  of  his  position,  must  we 


THE  TEACHING  OF  CHRIST  IN  JOHN.  47 1 

not    still    have    supposed   them   and   supplied  them   in   imagina- 
tion? 

That  we  have  here,  then,  a  different  aspect  of  Christ's  teach- 
ing need  not  surprise  us,  but  is  it  not  even  inconsistent  with 
that  already  given  by  the  synoptists?  The  universal  Christian 
consciousness  has  long  since  answered  that  question.  The  faith 
which  has  found  its  resting  place  in  the  Christ  of  the  synoptists 
is  not  unsettled  or  perplexed  by  anything  it  finds  in  John.  They 
are  not  two  Christs  but  one  which  the  four  gospels  depict : 
diverse  as  the  profile  and  front  face,  but  one  another's  comple- 
ment rather  than  contradiction.  A  critical  examination  of  the 
gospels  reaches  the  same  conclusion.  For  while  the  self-asser- 
tiveness  of  Christ  is  more  apparent  in  the  fourth  gospel,  it  is 
implicit  in  them  all.  Can  any  claim  be  greater  than  that  which 
our  Lord  urges  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  to  be  the  supreme 
lawgiver  and  judge  of  men?  Or  than  that  which  is  implied  in 
his  assertion  that  he  only  knows  the  Father,  and  that  only  through 
him  can  others  know  Him  ;  or  can  we  conceive  any  clearer  con- 
fidence in  his  mission  than  that  which  he  implies  when  he  invites 
all  men  to  come  to  him,  and  trust  themselves  with  him,  or  when  he 
forgives  sin,  and  proclaims  himself  the  Messiah,  God's  repre- 
sentative on  earth  ? 

Can  we  then  claim  that  all  that  is  reported  in  this  gospel  as 
uttered  by  our  Lord  was  actually  spoken  as  it  stands?  This  is 
not  claimed.  Even  the  most  conservative  critics  allow  that  John 
must  necessarily  have  condensed  conversations  and  discourses. 
The  truth  probably  is  that  we  have  the  actual  words  of  the  most 
striking  sayings,  because  these,  once  heard,  could  not  be  forgot- 
ten. And  this  plainly  applies  especially  to  the  sayings  regarding 
himself  which  were  most  likely  to  astonish  or  even  shock  and 
startle  the  hearers.  These  at  once  and  forever  fixed  themselves 
in  the  mind.  \\\  the  longer  discussions  and  addresses  we  have 
the  substance  but  cannot  at  each  point  be  sure  that  the  very 
words  are  given.  No  doubt  in  the  last  resort  we  must  trust  John, 
But  whom  could  we  more  reasonably  trust?  He  was  the  per- 
son of  all  others  who  entered  most  fully  into  sympathy  with 
Christ  and  understood   him  best,  the  person  to  whom   our  Lord 


472  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

could  most  frcclv  open  his  mind.  So  that  although,  as  Godet 
savs,  we  have  here  "the  extracted  essence  of  a  savoury  fruit" 
we  may  be  confident  that  this  essence  perfectly  preserves  the 
flavor  and  peculiaritv  of  the  fruit. 

On  finding  that  we  may  acce})t  this  gospel  as  a  trustworthy 
representation  of  one  aspect  of  our  Lord's  teaching,  we  turn  to 
it  and  learn  that  the  writer's  aim  is  to  reproduce  the  self-mani- 
festation of  Jesus  as  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God.  With  admira- 
ble artistic  skill  he  collects  from  the  life  of  our  Lord  those  acts 
and  words  which  most  distinctly  reveal  his  Messianic  dignity, 
and  he  so  presents  them  as  to  bring  out,  stage  by  stage,  the 
growing  faith  and  the  ever  deepening  alienation  and  hatred  which 
this  manifestation  elicited.  The  gospel  is  essentially  an  apolo- 
getic intended  to  establish  the  claim  of  Jesus  to  be  received  as 
the  Christ,  the  Anointed,  in  other  words,  the  spiritually  ccjuipped 
representative  of  God  among  men.  And  it  accomplishes  its 
object  not  bv  an  abstract  argument,  nor  like  Matthew  by  show- 
ing how  Jesus  fulfilled  prophecy,  but  bv  the  simple  method  of 
gathering  from  the  life  of  our  Lord  those  words  and  deeds  which 
most  consjjicuously  and  convincingly  exhibit  his  actual  re\'ela- 
tion  of  the  Father  and  application  of  his  goodness  to  men. 

The  whole  teaching  of  the  gospel  becomes  intelligible  when 
we  keep  in  view  that  it  was  the  author's  purpose  to  select  all  that 
might  most  distinctly  assure  men  that  Jesus  was  the  messenger 
of  God  and  all  that  most  cordialU-  and  j)ointedly  invites  men  to 
accept  what  (jod  sends  them.  In  accordance  with  this  the  favor- 
ite title  by  which  our  Lord  designates  himself  is  "  lie  whom  the 
Father  hath  sent "  ( 5  :  38  ;  6  :  29  ;  7  :  29  ;  17:3,  etc. ) .  and  a  favor- 
ite designation  of  God  is  "the  h'athcr  wliicli  hath  sent  me"  (5  :i'/\ 
6  :  38,  39,  40  ;  7:16;  8:16,  etc. )  His  great  aim  is  to  tuul  accejjtance 
as  the  Sent  of  God  :  "the  works  which  the  i'ather  hath  gi\en  me 
to  finish,  the  same  works  that  I  do,  bear  witness  of  me,  that  the 
I'"atlur  hath  sent  me"  (5  :36).  "  I  came  down  from  heaven,  not 
to  do  mine  own  will,  but  the  will  of  him  thai  siut  nu  "  (6:38). 
Above  all,  and  in  the  first  place,  nun  must  recogni/.e  him  as  the 
leather's  embassador,  empowered  to  n\(.al  the  divine  loxi-  and 
to  express  it  to  nu-n.      W'hatt-ver  i)e  his   nature,  and  \\hate\c  r  he 


THE  TEACHING  OF  CHRIST  IN  JOHN,  473 

his  previous  history,  it  is  not  to  these  that  attention  is  drawn, 
but  to  the  fact  of  his  being  the  qualified  representative  of  God 
on  earth,  the  Messiah.  If  reference  is  from  time  to  time  made 
to  his  nature  or  previous  history,  this  is  incidental  to  the  main 
purpose  which  always  is  to  present  Christ  as  the  commissioned 
representative  of  God  to  men.  Hence  we  need  not  be  surprised 
if  he  says  little  directh*  of  his  divine  nature. 

At  the  present  time  it  is  gravely  doubted  whether  in  any  utter- 
ance recorded  in  this  gospel  Jesus  claims  to  be  divine.  Profes- 
sor Beyschlag  especially  has  spent  much  ingenuity  in  so  explain- 
ing the  passages  which  have  usually  been  construed  in  this  sense, 
as  to  leave  no  such  claim  apparent.  The  title  "Son  of  God  "  is 
a  Messianic  designation  and  carries  with  it  no  intimation  of  eter- 
nal divine  existence  as  son.  The  expressions  which  seem  to 
involve  the  affirmation  of  preexistence  (6  :  62  ;  8  :  58  ;  17:4,  5, 
24  )  only  mean  that  the  ideal  man  existed  from  eternity  in  the  mind 
of  God.  And  although  he  frequently  speaks  of  himself  as  sent 
by  God  and  coming  down  from  heaven,  these  modes  of  speech 
are  equally  applicable  and  sometimes  applied  to  other  men. 

Much  service  has  been  done  by  Professor  Beyschlag  and  his 
fellow  workers  in  compelling  us  to  a  stricter  exegesis.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  the  designation  "  Son  of  God  "  is  a  Messianic 
title  and  is  sometimes  used  in  this  sense  in  this  gospel.  Yet  this 
does  not  explain  why  Jesus  so  constantly  speaks  of  himself  as 
" //^^  Son  "  while  speaking  of  God  as  "the  Father."  This  con- 
stant setting  of  himself,  in  distinction  from  other  men,  in  a  rela- 
tion of  sonship  to  the  Father,  produced  in  the  mind  of  the  Jews 
the  impression  that  he  made  himself  equal  with  God.  And, 
what  is  more  to  the  purpose,  the  same  impression  was  produced 
upon  the  mind  of  John,  his  most  intimate  and  best-instructed 
disciple.  It  is  manifest  from  the  prologue  that  John  believed 
Jesus  to  be  the  Logos  or  the  Eternal  Son  of  God,  and  how  our 
Lord  could  have  permitted  this  impression  to  be  left  on  his  mind, 
if  it  were  erroneous,  is  not  easy  to  understand.  When  Jesus 
declared  that  he  was  before  Abraham,  those  who  heard  him 
understood  him  to  mean  that  he  was  personally  alive  before 
Abraham  ;  and  if  they  had  thought  otherwise  and  that  Jesus  only 


474  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

meant  to  affirm  that  he  existed  from  eternity  in  the  mind  of  God, 
might  not  they  themselves  have  claimed  a  similar  existence? 
Certainlv  the  writers  who  entered  most  fullv  into  the  mind  of 
Christ  were  most  influential  in  the  permanent  establishment  of 
Christianitv.  John,  Paul,  and  the  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  believed  in  his  preexistence. 

It  was,  then,  as  Messiah  that  Jesus  primarih-  manifested  him- 
self. In  the  synoptical  gospels  he  is  also  presented  as  Alessiah, 
but  mainly  in  the  character  of  the  founder  of  the  Messianic  king- 
dom. In  John  it  is  rather  the  more  essential  nature  of  the  Mes- 
siah as  the  revealer  of  God  and  mediator  between  God  and  men, 
which  is  in  view.  And  John's  idea  of  the  actual  qualifications 
which  constituted  Jesus  the  Messiah  may  perhaps  most  readily 
be  gathered  from  the  miracles  recorded.  The  miracles  selected 
are  those  which  best  serve  as  object  lessons,  or  manifestations 
in  the  physical  world,  of  some  particular  element  in  the  equip- 
ment of  the  Messiah.  In  these  miracles  Jesus  was  the  bearer 
and  dispenser  of  the  Father's  good-will,  and  he  desired  that  in 
and  through  them  he  might  be  recognized  as  such,  and  be  trusted 
as  the  medium  through  whom  men  might  come  into  connection 
with  the  whole  divine  fulness. 

Accordingly,  as  the  miracles  were  meant  to  tell  their  own 
story,  their  teaching  is  obvious.  In  the  supply  of  wine  which  he 
furnished  for  the  prolongation  of  the  wedding  festivities  at  Cana, 
there  was  manifested  his  glorv  as  the  reliever  of  all  poverty  and 
pro\ider  of  all  innocent  joy.  When  he  summoned  into  liie  and 
activity  the  hopelessly  impotent  man  at  the  jjool  of  Bethesda,  it 
was  made  apparent  that  "the  .Son  quickeneth  whom  he  will.' 
In  giving  sight  to  the  man  born  blind  he  revealed  himself,  more 
convincingly  than  b\-  anv  \'erbal  teaching,  as  the  light  of  the 
world  ;  and  when  he  fed  the  hungrv  out  of  his  own  stores,  the 
i'ntclligcnt  might  have  seen  that  he  who  could  thus  svistain  the 
body  might  be  trusted  as  able  also  to  gi\e  tlu'  bread  that  eiulur- 
cth  to  life  everlasting.  In  the  crowning  miracle  of  the  raising  of 
Lazarus  he  reveals  himself  as  the  resurrection,  inxiting  men  to 
believe  that  the  life  he  comnumicates  is  undying.  l^y  these  mir- 
acles, therefore,  lu-  |iroclainK'(l  himself  to  mc-n  as  carrying  in  his 
])ers(Mi  a  di\'ine  fulness  of  life, —  the  \er\-  lile  ol  (iod,  as  he  him- 


THE  TEACHING  OF  CHRIST  IN  JOHN.  475 

self  says  (6  :  26)  and  as  imparting  this  life  freely  to  men.  "  Life  " 
or  "life  eternal"  is  the  favorite  term  in  this  gospel  to  express 
the  all-comprehending  good  which  Christ  brings  to  men. 

That  our  Lord  foresaw  that  in  order  to  give  this  "life"  its 
fullest  application  to  men  his  own  death  was  necessary,  is  appa- 
rent from  several  passages.  Conspicuous  among  these  are  his 
comparison  of  his  own  exaltation  to  the  raising  of  the  brazen  ser- 
pent on  the  pole  (3:14)  and  the  similar  language  of  chapter  12  :  32, 
where  he  intimates  that  it  is  by  being  lifted  up  he  will  obtain 
ascendancy  over  all  men.  In  the  same  chapter  he  utters  the 
memorable  words,  "Except  a  grain  of  wheat  fall  into  the  ground 
and  die  it  abideth  alone  ;  but  if  it  die,  it  beareth  much  fruit."  It 
is  to  minimize  the  significance  of  these  utterances  to  find  in  them 
only  another  way  of  saying,  "It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go 
away,"  and  to  suppose  that  he  looked  upon  death  chiefly  as  "the 
passage  into  a  state  of  glory  in  which  he  could  act  effectively 
and  truly  live  with  his  own."  It  was  that ;  but  it  was  that  by 
virtue  of  its  atoning  efficacy.  The  representative  and  substitu- 
tionary character  of  his  death  is  brought  out  in  the  parable  of 
the  Good  Shepherd  and  in  his  acceptance  of  the  designation 
applied  to  him  by  the  Baptist,  "the  Lamb  of  God  that  taketh 
away  the  sin  of  the  world."  The  only  way  in  which  a  lamb  can 
remove  sin  is  by  bearing;  it  as  a  vicarious  victim. 

Further,  in  this  gospel  our  Lord  throws  much  light  on  the 
means  by  which  men  actually  become  recipients  of  the  life  which 
Christ  brings.  Evidently  there  must  in  the  first  place  be  faith  in 
his  words  and  in  his  person  (5:24;  6:29,  68;  i  :I2,  etc.).  But 
the  character  of  this  faith  and  the  entireness  of  the  reception 
which  are  requisite  for  making  men  partakers  of  the  life  that  is  in 
Christ  are  most  distinctly  brought  out  in  the  figure  of  eating  and 
drinking  which  he  uses  in  the  sixth  chapter.  It  is  by  eating  we 
assimilate  to  our  own  life  the  nutritive  properties  of  our  food  ; 
so  Christ  says  we  must  make  him  as  thoroughly  our  own  as  eat- 
ing makes  bread  our  own.  We  must  make  his  spirit  our  own, 
assimilate  to  ourselves  all  that  is  in  him  to  encourage,  to  guide, 
to  sanctify.  We  must  so  use  him  for  all  spiritual  purposes  that 
we  can  understand  what  it  means  to  be  one  with  him.  So  eating 
him  we  possess  life  eternal. 


JESUS  AS   PREACHER. 


By  P  R  o  F  E  s  s  o  R   William    C.Wilkinson, 
The  University  of  Chicago. 


C/irist's  teaching  authoritative,  based  on  knoiuledge,  certain.  —  His 
attitude  towards  the  Old  Testament ;  and  the  legitimacy  of  biblical  criticism. 
— As  to  the  originality  of  Christ's  teaching.  —  His  homiletic  method:  His 
use  of  opportunity,  of  rhetorical  expedients,  of  parables.  —  The  equipoise  in 
His  preaching.^- His  elocution. — Christ  the  Preacher  subordinate  to  Christ 
the  Redeoner. 

The  purpose  of  the  present  paper  is  to  point  out  the  chief 
traits  which  characterized  Jesus  as  preacher  or  teacher.  Some 
of  these  characteristic  traits  are  uni(jue  in  him.  Let  us  begin 
with  one  such. 

Jesus  taught  with  authority.  Nothing  in  his  preaching  is  a 
trait  more  marked,  more  pervasive,  more  indelibly  waterlined 
into  the  texture  of  his  discourse,  than  this.  It  is,  perhaps,  the 
one  note  in  which  Jesus,  as  teacher,  is  different  from  all  other 
teachers  in  the  world,  before  him  or  after  him.  Other  teachers 
ha\'e,  indeed,  assumed  or  affected  the  tone  of  authorit\-  in  their 
teaching.  With  some  such  teachers  the  assumj)tion  has  the 
effect,  was  designed  to  have  the  effect,  of  only  a  pleasant  com- 
placency on  their  part ;  perhaj)s  even  of  a  certain  comj)laisance 
toward  their  disciples  or  readers.  Ralph  Waldo  ICinerson  is  an 
instance.  In  form,  he  is  not  seldom  as  authoritati\'e  as  was  Jesus. 
But  no  one  feels  that  he  is  so  in  s])irit  and  intent.  On  the  con- 
trarv,  he  associates  his  readers  with  himself  and  makes  them 
share  with  their  master  a  kind  of  illusory  sense  of  possessing 
final  and  oracular  wisdom.  Neither  writer  nor  reader  is  deceived 
in  the  j)remises.  The  air  of  seer  with  which  such  a  man  speaks 
is  frankh'  put  on.      It  is  a  manner,  no  more. 

Not  so  with  the  authoritative  lone  in  Jesus.  That  is  no  man- 
ner mereh'.  It  is  of  himsell.  it  is  the  natural  language  of 
the  speaker.  Instead  of  being  i)ut  on,  it  is  such  that  it  could 
not  even  be  concei\'ed  as  put  off.       Huffon's  word    is    coinpleteh' 

4/6 


N  -r 


5;/! 


478  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

realized.  In  the  case  of  Jesus,  the  style  is  he.  But  we  do  not 
have  to  infer  what,  if  it  were  left  to  be  inferred,  is  so  abundantly 
implied,  fesus  himself,  in  express  terms,  insists  on  his  own 
authority  as  teacher.  He  said  to  his  disciples,  "Ye  call  me 
master  [teacher]  and  lord  and  ye  say  well,  for  so  I  am."  Again, 
"Why  call  ve  me  Lord,  Lord,  and  do  not  the  things  which  I 
say?"  It  was  no  mere  superficial  complaisance  that  this  teacher 
would  accept  from  his  disciples,  in  being  addressed  by  them  with 
a  conventional  title  of  deference  and  respect.  He  claimed 
seriously  all  that  his  title  of  lord  implied. 

Intimately  related  to  the  trait  just  named  in  Jesus  as  preacher, 
indeed  almost  identical  with  that,  yet  of  a  nature  to  invite  sepa- 
rate mention,  is  a  quality  for  which  our  language  does  not,  in 
any  single  word,  afford  an  adequate  name.  We  shall  have  to 
throw  out  tentatives,  make  approximations,  in  order  to  express 
it.  We  might  say  that  Jesus  spoke  like  a  seer,  like  a  prophet, 
like  an  oracle.  But  that  would  very  imperfectly,  indeed  it  would 
somewhat  misleadingly,  express  the  fact.  It  would,  to  be  sure, 
set  Jesus  apart  from  the  order  of  those  whom  by  way  of  dis- 
tinction and  honor  we  call  "thinkers."  So  far,  it  would  be  just 
and  good.  For  Jesus  was  conspicuously,  remarkably,  not  a 
thinker  among  thinkers.  He  is  nowhere  in  the  records  that 
we  have  of  him,  exhibited  to  us  as  going  through  any  of 
those  intellectual  j)rocesses  by  which  men  in  general  arrive 
at  their  results  in  conviction,  true  or  false.  He  was  not  a 
seeker  o{  truth.  So  far  as  appears  he  did  not  reason,  institute 
inductions,  draw  inferences.  He  saw  without  effort.  He  did 
not  exi)lore  and  discover.  He  saw  and  announced.  He  some- 
times argued;  but  this  to  convince,  or  rather  to  conxict,  liis 
opponents;  never  to  satisfy  himself.  In  the  respects  thus  intli- 
cated,  Jesus  was  a  seer  instead  of  a  thinker.  \\\A  he  was  not  a 
seer  in  the  sense  of  being  filled  from  without  with  an  inspiration 
to  which  he  served  simply  as  organ  of  ultrrance.  He  was  never 
as  one  carried  out  of  himself.  He  spoke  indeed  from  God,  but  it 
was  in  the  character  of  a  j)erson  at  the  same  time  consciously 
one  with  God.  Let  us  say  that  Jesus  spoke  with  ciiit/iorih', 
l;)ecause  he  spoke  as  one  that  knew. 


JES  US  A  S  PRE  A  CHER.  479 

A  third  note,  then,  braided  inseparably  into  the  tone  with 
which  Jesus  spoke,  was  the  note  of  absolute,  unshaken,  unshak- 
able certainty.  There  is  in  his  utterances  no  doubt,  no  falterino- 
no  wavering,  no  slightest  possibility  admitted,  however  remotely, 
of  the  speaker's  being  mistaken.  What  he  teaches  has  in  it  the 
solidity  —  I  was  going  to  say  —  of  the  planet  itself.  But  that  were 
a  feeble  figure  of  speech.  God  himself  could  not  be  imagined 
speaking  in  human  words  with  a  more  pungent  and  powerful 
effect  produced  of  the  speaker's  k?ioiving\N\\:^X.  he  affirmed.  The 
degree  of  the  peculiar  effect  thus  described  is  such  in  the  case 
of  Jesus  that  that  alone  would  justify  and  explain  the  awe- 
stricken  exclamation  of  one  of  his  hearers,  "Never  man  spake 
like  this  man."  Christ's  characteristic  formula  of  preface, 
"Verily,  verily,"  was  but  a  kind  of  spontaneous,  inevitable 
notice  and  sign  given  to  hearers,  of  the  ultimate,  the  absolute, 
character  of  certainty  inhering  in  that  which  was  to  follow. from 
his  lips.  How  convincing,  nay,  how  overawing,  it  is,  when,  for 
instance,  in  opposition  to  traditional  doctors  of  universally 
accepted  authority,  Jesus  says,   "But  I  sav  unto  you"  ! 

It  needs  to  be  said  that  the  traits  thus  attributed  to  Jesus  as 
teacher  or  preacher,  traits  naturally  seeming  to  involve  underived 
and  independent  cpiality  in  their  subject,  are  strangely,  almost 
paradoxically,  reconciled  in  him  with  an  accompanying  trait  of 
subordination  and  obedience.  As  a  New  Testament  writer 
expresses  it,  "Though  he  was  a  Son,  yet  learned  he  obedience." 
The  case  is  one  without  parallel  in  respect  of  this  blending  and 
reconcilement  of  two  seeming  contraries,  supremacy  and  subjec- 
tion. The  mystery  of  Christ's  person  as  very  God  and  very 
man,  is  involved. 

Something  like  the  same  mystery  and  paradox  seems  also  to 
subsist  in  the  double  attitude  that  Jesus  held  toward  the  Old 
Testament  Scriptures.  On  the  one  side,  he  treated  them  with 
the  utmost  reverence.  He  said,  or  implied,  that  their  sentence 
on  any  point  which  they  touched,  was  final  and  irreversible. 
"  For  verily  I  say  unto  you," — such  is  his  august  and  awe-inspir- 
ing language  —  "Till  heaven  and  earth  pass  one  jot  or  one  tittle 
shall  in  no  wise  pass  from  the  law  till  all  be  fulfilled."      Nothing 


48o  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

could  go  beyond  this  in  the  way  of  dcclarinLi,'  the  absohite  truth 
and  authority  of  Old  Testament  Scrij)ture.  And  illustration  of 
the  same  tenor  is  inwrought  everywhere  into  the  fabric  of  Christ's 
habitual  discourse. 

It  is,  however,  to  be  noted  that  this  accent  of  reverence  on 
Christ's  part  for  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures,  verv  singularly 
inv^olves  also  a  tacit  assuni])tion  on  his  part  of  authoritN"  belong- 
ing to  himself,  coe(|ual  with  their  own.  iiav,  e\en  transcending 
that.  The  language  used  by  Jesus,  as,  for  instance,  in  the  fore- 
going cjuotation  from  his  great  discourse,  is  peculiar:  "Verily 
I  say  unto  you."  Such  expression  is  that  of  one  affixing  a  sanc- 
tion. It  is  not  that  of  one  subscribing  a  loyal  personal  adhesion 
and  obedience.  It  is  rather  that  of  one  calmly  assuming  to 
endorse  and  to  ratify.  The  New  Testament  student  is  not  sur- 
prised, therefore,  to  find  Jesus  saying,  with  unaffected  majesty, 
of  his  own  words  what  he  had  before  said  of  the  words  of  the 
law  :  "  Heaven  and  earth  shall  j)ass  awa\',  but  mv  words  shall 
not  pass  away." 

It  is  not  to  be  understood  as  condemnation  from  him  oi  what 
the  Old  Testament  taught,  when,  in  the  exercise  of  his  right, 
Jesus  fills  out,  modifies,  or  even  sets  aside,  a  jjoint  of  Old  Testa- 
ment teaching.  If  to  say  this  be  ])aradox,  it  is  no  less  the  truth. 
The  Old  Testament  had  foretold  that  a  Prophet  should  appear, 
the  antitype  of  Moses ;  and  Moses  himself  is  represented  as 
bespeaking  for  that  Proj)het  beforehand  obedient  heed  ;  "  Him 
shall  ye  hear,"  is  the  i)iilding.  it  is  as  if  the  Okl  Testament 
itself  j)rovided  for  its  own  amendment.  Its  letter  and  its  spirit 
were  actually  therefore  in  ])rocess  ol  being  fulfilled,  when  its 
predicted  Proj^het  took  upon  himself  the  prerogatixe  of  setting 
it  at  any  point  aside;  that  is,  of  replacing  a  pro\isional  arrange- 
ment in  it  with  s(Miiething  final  and  absolute  ;  in  .Scripture  jjhrase, 
of  removing  the  things  which  were  shaken  that  the  things  which 
could  not  be  shakt-n,  might  re'main.  I  lu-  annulnuiit  1)\'  Ji'sus  of 
the  to(j  lax  Mosaic  j)ermission  ol  dixorce  is  an  instance  in  point  ; 
thougii  this  ostensible  annulment  was,  it  is  true,  rather  onl)-  a 
carrying  out  to  further  strictness  of  a  limitation  not  stringent 
enough  pro\'isionall\'  a|ipoint((l    l)\    tin-    primitive    legislator.      It 


JES  US  A  S  PRE  A  CHEN.  4  8  I 

was  completion,  not  abrogation.  The  freedom  with  which  Jesus 
handled  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures  is  thus  as  marked  as  is 
his  reverence  for  them.  But  his  freedom  in  handlinL!;  them  is  no 
derogation  from  their  provisional  authority.  It  is  no  proof  that 
their  just  claim  was  less,  while  it  lasted  :  but  only  that  his  just 
claim  was  more,  who  could  at  points  authoritatively  define  and 
limit  the  term  of  its  lasting. 

There  is  one  thing  further  to  be  remarked  on  the  attitude 
held  by  Jesus  as  public  teacher  toward  the  Old  Testament  Scrip- 
tures. Whatever  may  have  been  his  knowledge  in  the  case,  and 
however  different  may  have  been  his  own  individual  \'iews  on  the 
various  points  involved,  Jesus  never  disturbed  the  current  popular 
belief  concerning  the  origin,  the  date,  the  authorship,  of  the  various 
books  that  in  his  day  composed  (as  these  same  books  compose 
in  ours)  the  Old  Testament  canon.  If  contemporary  belief  was 
mistaken  on  these  points,  or  on  any  of  them,  and  if  Jesus  knew  that 
it  was  mistaken,  he  yet  did  nothing  to  unsettle  it,  or  to  correct 
it.      He  left  it  absolutely  as  he  found  it,  unchanged,  unchallenged. 

Such  is  the  fact,  the  incontestable  fact.  What  does  this  fact 
prove?  That  the  contemporary  popular  belief  was  right?  Hardly. 
I  thus  reply,  although  my  own  individual  oj)inion  is  —  an  opinion 
long  held  on  grounds  of  literarv  criticism  alone,  and  lately  con- 
firmed by  what  seem  to  be  the  uncjuestionable  results  of  archa^o- 
logic  research  —  that  the  traditional  view  on  the  subject  of  Old 
Testament  origins  and  authorships,  which  view  I  understand  to  be 
substantially  the  same  as  that  current  among  the  Jews  of  Christ's 
time,  probably  comes  much  nearer  the  truth  in  the  case,  than  any 
alternative  conclusion  likely  ever  to  be  arrived  at  and  agreed 
upon  by  modern  higher  critics  of  the  ancient  sacred  canon.  Still, 
Jesus  did  not,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  see,  commit  himself, 
directly  or  indirectly,  on  the  points  involved  ;  and  we  are  left 
free  to  infer  only  that  he  thought  it  not  worth  while  to  disturb 
the  current  belief,  even  if  the  current  belief  were  wrong.  So 
Jesus  bore  himself  toward  this  matter  then.  Would  he  so  bear 
himself  toward  the  same  matter  now?  Or,  to  [)ut  our  cjuestion 
otherwise,  would  Jesus  still  ha\'e  observed  reticence  on  this  topic, 
if  the   topic    had   been    in    his  day  a  burning  one?      Our  answer 


482  THE   BIBLICAL    WORLD. 

must  necessarily  be  an  inferential  answer ;  but  to  me  it  seems 
clear  that  the  whole  tone  and  tenor  of  his  teaching  and  his  life 
tend  in  a  single  direction,  and  that  that  direction  is  to  make  it 
probable  that  Jesus  would  ha\c  put  out  of  his  way  at  once,  as 
things  not  important  enough  to  engage  Ids  attention,  all  (jues- 
tions,  though  ncyer  so  burning  at  the  moment,  of  how,  when,  by 
whom,  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures  were  produced.  The  one 
thing  yital  about  these  Scriptures  was  that  they  were  from  God 
and  were  to  be  reyerenced  accordingly. 

Does  it  then  follow  that  men  must  neyer  incjuire  and  explore 
as  to  the  genesis  and  history  of  the  human  element  in  the  author- 
ship of  the  sacred  Scriptures?  Who  would  affirm  this?"  But  of 
Christ's  purpose  in  the  world,  such  speculation  constituted  no 
part.  He  came  not  to  gratify  intellectual  curiosity,  but  to  excite 
and  to  satisfy  s[)iritual  crayings ;  in  short,  to  sayc  men.  Let 
those  addicted  to  scientific  pursuits  make,  if  they  so  pleased, 
scientific  quest  in  the  region  of  Old  Testament  origins.  That, 
however,  was  not  his  own  mission  ;  nor  was  it  to  be  the  mission 
of  those  whom  he  would  send  forth  to  preach  his  gospel.  Give 
to  science  its  due,  and  give  to  religion  its  due  ;  render  to  Caisar 
the  things  that  are  Caesar's  and  to  God  the  things  that  are  God's. 

If  this  hypothetical  conclusion  as  to  the  attitude  of  Jesus 
toward  questions  of  higher  biblical  criticism  be  sound,  then  the 
way  is  now  absolutely  open  to  science,  free  from  any  interdict 
to  be  drawn  from  the  example  or  authority  of  Christ,  to  seek 
and  to  find  what  results  she  justly  may,  about  Old  Testament  and 
New  Testament  origins.  But,  if  we  have  rightly  inferred  from 
the  sjjirit  and  example  of  Jesus,  the  rclii^ious  teacher,  teaching  in 
his  name,  will  not  do  this.  It  is  a  scientific,  not  a  religious  aim. 
The  results,  whatever  they  may  be  worth  as  science,  will  have  no 
religious  value.  I  mean,  of  course,  so  far  as  they  are  spcculatixe 
and  uncertain.  Where  the  results  are  matters  of  realh-  \crified 
knowledge,  \.\\Q.\  nia\'  undoubtcdh'  sonictinu's  be  usi-d  to  ;ul\an- 
tage  in  throwing  illustrati\e  light  on  particular  jjassages,  perhajjs 
whole  tracts,  of  .Scri])ture,  and  so  subserve  a  vital  religious  pur- 
pose. Beyond  this,  the  preacher  of  the  gos|)cl  has  no  warrant 
from    the   example  of   his    Master    in  going.      It  is  a  pronounced 


JES  US  AS  PRE  A  CHER.  483 

negative  trait  in  Christ's  teaching  that  he  strongly  refrained  from 
intermeddling  in  the  burning  questions  of  his  time,  unless  they 
were  religious,  and  vitally  religious,  questions.  "My  kingdom 
is  not  of  this  world,"  he  seemed  always  to  remember.  "Who 
made  me  a  ruler  and  divider  over  you?" — this  interrogative 
refusal  on  his  part  of  intervention  in  the  matter  of  a  disputed 
inheritance,  expressed  also  his  attitude  toward  public  questions 
of  the  day  on  which  good  men  might  honestly  differ  in  opinion 
Even  a  question  like  that  of  the  difference  between  Samaritan 
and  Jew,  though  it  involved  a  vital  point  of  religion,  he  pro- 
nounced his  sentence  upon,  frankly  indeed,  yet  with  a  certain 
approach  to  impatience,  with  an  air  of  dismissal  —  because  the 
controversy  about  it  was  of  only  a  subordinate  and  temporary 
importance.  The  example  and  influence  of  Jesus  as  preacher 
are  wholly  in  favor  of  exclusive  devotion  on  the  part  of  his 
ministers  to  what  is  religious,  as  distinguished  from  what  is  intel- 
lectual, in  interest,  this  even  where  that  which  is  intellectual  in 
interest  may  border  closely  on  religion.  It  is  not  meant  thus 
to  be  implied  that  some  men  may  not,  in  a  vitally  religious  spirit, 
and  with  a  sincerely  religious  motive  in  doing  so,  devote  them- 
selves to  scientific  exploration  of  the  cjuestions  involved  in  the 
so-called  higher  criticism  of  Scripture.  Assuredly,  men  having 
a  conscientious  sense  of  such  vocation  may  freely  do  this,  ani- 
mated with  the  hope  of  discovering  what  shall  serve  the  cause  of 
religion  in  the  world.  But  the  work  thus  described  is  not 
included  either  among  the  specific  activities  commanded  by 
Jesus  to  his  ministers,  or  among  those  recommended  to  them  by 
their  Master's  example.  "Preach  the  word" — the  word,  not 
higher  criticism  of  the  word,  is  still,  as  it  always  was,  and  always 
will  be,  the  prime  injunction  to  ministers  of  the  gospel. 

In  the  matter  and  substance  of  his  preaching,  Jesus  did  not 
claim  to  be,  and  he  was  not,  new  and  original  in  any  such  sense, 
or  in  any  such  degree,  as  will  at  all  account  for  his  unique 
influence  His  doctrine  of  the  Divine  Fatherhood  was  no  novelty. 
The  Old  Testament  contained  it,  in  such  expressions  as  that  of 
the  Psalm,  "Like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord 
pitieth    them    that    fear    him."      Or,  if  this    be   deemed  not  uni- 


484  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

versal  enough  to  match  the  doctrine  of  Jesus,  then  take 
this,  "His  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his  works;"  or  this, 
"O  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness, 
for  his  wonderful  works  to  the  children  of  men!  "  No  particu- 
larism there  at  least,  more  than  in  the  teaching  of  Jesus, 
"He  [vour  Father]  maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and 
the  good,"  language  addressed,  however,  be  it  observed,  to 
his  disciples,  and  couched  in  the  second  person,  "  Your  Father." 
Great  pains  have  been  expended  by  hostile  critics  of  Jesus  in  the 
attempt  to  trace  everything  that  he  taught  to  some  source  earlier 
than  himself.  Such  critics  do  not  seem  to  consider  that  the  more 
thev  show  Jesus  not  to  have  been  original,  or  at  least  not  to  have 
been  new,  in  his  teaching,  the  more  they  make  wonderful  the 
power  and  the  spread  of  his  influence.  If  there  was  nothing 
original  antl  new  in  his  doctrine,  then  his  ])erson,  his  character, 
himself,  must  alone  be  relied  uj)on  to  furnish  the  explanation  of 
the  historvthat  surrounded  him  living  and  that  has  followed  him 
dead. 

The  one  feature  in  Christ's  preaching  that  might  seem  to  offer 
an  aspect  of  originality,  consists  in  this,  that  the  ultimate  subject 
and  object  of  his  preaching  was  himself.  No  other  teacher  is  in 
this  regard  comparable  to  Jesus.  "/ say  unto  you  ;  "  "These 
sayings  of  mine;''  "If  /  then,  xour  Lord  antl  Master;"  "One  is 
your  Master,  even  Christ;"  "Come  unto  w^,  all  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy  laden  and  /will  give  vou  rest;"  "Ye  will  not  come  to 
7ne  that  ve  might  ha\c  life;"  "/  am  the  wav,  and  the  truth,  and 
the  life;"  "No  man  cometh  unto  the  Father,  but  by  me." 
Extraordinarv,  unparalleled  claims;  still.it  was  only  in  the 
article  of  his  identifying  himself  with  the  promised  Messiah,  that 
Jesus  i>roi)ounded  in  them  anvthingto  be  called  new.  The  Christ 
or  Messiah  of  the  Old  Testament  had  for  ages  been  jn-eached  or 
j)redicted  in  virtuallv  equivalent  terms.  "Ye  search  the 
Scrijitures,"  said  Jesus  to  the  caviling  Jews,  "for  in  them  ye 
think  ye  have  eternal  life;  and  they  are  they  which  testify  of 
fue."  To  two  of  his  disci])les,  so  it  is  told  us  by  Luke,  Jesus, 
after  his  resurrection,  lieginning  from  Mosis  and  trom  all  the 
prophets,  interpreted    in   all    the   Scriptures   the   things   concern- 


JES  US  A  S  PRE  A  CHER.  485 

ing  himself.  In  its  essence,  therefore,  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  was 
not  new  doctrine,  when  he  made  himself  the  subject  and  the 
object  of  his  own  preaching. 

We  have  hitherto  considered  only  traits  in  Jesus  the  preacher 
belonging  necessarily  to  him,  because  he  was  such  as  he  was  in 
his  person  and  character,  or  else  because  he  was  exclusively  reli- 
gious in  his  aim.  Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  traits  in  him 
that  might  be  regarded  as  more  incidental,  more  separable  from 
the  person  and  character  of  the  preacher,  more  a  matter  of  choice 
on  his  part,  choice  that  might  conceivably  have  been  different 
from  what  it  was.  We  treat  now  of  the  hoinilctic  Diclhod  of 
Jesus. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  ver^-  noticeable  that  Jesus  took 
advantage  of  the  incalculable  oratoric  reinforcement  to  be  drawn 
from  fit  opportunity .  He  hinged  and  jointed  his  instructions  into 
particular  occasions  suggesting  them,  or  at  least  making  them 
at  a  given  moment  especially  apposite.  The  gospel  historians 
are  faithful  in  enabling  us  to  make  this  useful  note  as  to  Christ's 
method  in  preaching. 

Again,  and  in  the  same  wise  spirit  of  thrifty  self-adjustment 
to  occasion,  Jesus,  where  occasion  did  not  offer  itself  ready-made 
to  his  hand,  would  say  something  introductory  to  serve  the 
purpose  of  an  occasion.  For  instance,  he  would  rouse  attention 
and  expectation,  by  providing  beforehand,  over  against  what  he 
had  to  say,  some  antithesis  to  it,  real  or  apparent.  "Ye  have 
heard  that  it  was  said,  An  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth  ; 
but  I  say  unto  you,  Resist  not  him  that  is  evil,"  is  an  illustration 
of  this  method  on  the  part  of  Jesus.  For  we  have  here,  not,  of 
course,  abrogation  of  civil  law  with  replacement  of  it  by  lawless- 
ness, by  anarchy  —  which,  in  the  sphere  of  human  govern- 
ment, the  absolute  )wn-rcsistancc  in  terms  enjoined  would  be  ;  but 
simply  a  rhetorical  device  for  commanding  attention  and 
strengthening  impression.  Indeed  the  whole  series  of  antithe- 
ses from  which  our  example  foregoing  was  drawn,  may  be 
said  itself  to  constitute  an  illustration  at  large  of  the  point  in 
teaching  method  here  brought  to  attention.  Jesus  wished  tO' 
enforce     the     high     severity     of      the      personal     righteousness. 


486  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

required  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  He  does  it  most  effectively 
bv  contrast.  He  sets  his  own  standard  of  ric^hteousness  over 
against  the  imperfect  standard  maintained  1)\-  the  j)oj)ular 
religious  teachers  of  his  dav  :  "Except  vour  righteousness  shall 
exceed  the  righteousness  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  ye  shall  in 
no  wise  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  hea\'en."  This  is  the  general 
statement,  and  then  follows  the  series  of  instances  in  which 
Jesus  j)oints  out  the  imperfections,  or  the  faults,  of  the  moralitv 
taught,  as  from  the  Mosaic  institutes,  bv  the  best-reputed  con- 
temporary doctors  of  the  law.  It  is  the  homiletic  expedient 
exemplified  of  teaching  bv  antithesis. 

Paradox  was  with  Jesus  another  favorite  expedient  of  teach- 
ing. Perhaps  no  other  teacher  ever  made  proportionately  more 
use  of  this  e.xj)edient  than  did  he.  You  cannot  understand 
Jesus  without  often  making  allowance  for  paradox  in  his  form  of 
expression. 

Jesus  was  sometimes  even  more  frankl\-  rlu-torical  than  has 
vet  been  shown  or  suggested.  Take,  for  instance,  that  saving  of 
his,  "Whosoever  shall  break  one  of  the  least  commandments,  and 
shall  teach  men  so,  shall  be  called  least  in  the  kingdom  of 
heaven."  Here,  manifesth",  the  rhetorical  (piest  of  balance  and 
antithesis,  of  symmetry  and  epigram,  in  form  of  statement,  leads 
Jesus  to  sav  what  he  did  not  desire  to  ha\^e  taken  in  an  absolutelv 
literal  sense.  Hyj^erbole  is  \et  another  rhetorical  ex])edicnt 
freely  used  1)\"  jcsus  in  his  discourse.  Consider  the  tollowing: 
"If  any  man  .  .  .  hateth  not  his  own  father,  and  mother,  and 
wife,  and  children,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  \-ea,  and  his  own 
life  also,  he  cannot  be  mv  disciple."  The  vast,  the  immeasurable, 
claim  on  his  own  behalf  which  Jesus  habituallv  makes  does  not 
itself  admit  of  oxerstatement ;  but  the  just  statement  of  it  here 
made  is  made  by  means  of  overstatement  the  most  cxtraordinarv. 
It  is  a  case  of  Inperbole  rendered  niore  lujierbolie  through 
accumulation  and  climax.  We  must  bi-ware,  in  tiie  case  ol  U'sus, 
as  thcolfjgiairs  long  ago  ought  to  ha\i-  done  in  the  case  ol  the 
a|)ostle  Paul,  not  to  make  dogma  out  ol  inert-  rhetoric. 

Till'  pavidde  was  one  more  feature  in  the  preaching  method  of 
Jesus;    |)erha|)S  the  most  comiuanding   one  of  all.      Certainlv  no 


JESUS  AS  PREACHER.  48? 

one  else  ever  approached  Jesus  in  mastery  of  this  teaching 
instrument.  PLvidently  this  teaching  instrument  is  one  that  may 
equally  well  be  employed  to  throw  light  or  to  throw  darkness  on 
the  subject  of  discourse.  That  Jesus  employed  it  now  for  the 
one  and  now  for  the  other  of  these  two  opposite  purposes,  seems 
implied  in  the  narrative  of  the  evangelists.  "Opposite,"  I  call 
these  purposes.  But  even  when  Jesus  employed  the  parable  for 
darkening  truth,  we  may  be  sure  that  the  darkness  cast  was  cast 
for  the  gracious  end  of  awakening  desire  for  light.  Hearers 
that  reallv  wished  light  would  be  given  light.  It  is  not  for  a 
moment  to  be  supposed  that  Jesus  ever  darkened  men's  minds 
with  parable,  when  a  different  method  of  instruction  adopted  by 
him  would  have  had  on  those  same  men's  minds  an  effect  more 
salutary  both  for  themselves  and  for  the  general  interests  of  the 
kingdom  of  God  in  the  world. 

A  further  feature  belonging  to  the  homiletic  method  of  Jesus 
was  the  just  balance  that  he  held  between  the  two  contrasted 
moods  and  tendencies  of  thought  often  designated,  respectively, 
the  optimistic  and  the  pessimistic.  Jesus  was  neither  a  pessimist 
nor  an  optimist,  whether  in  his  temperament  or  in  his  preaching. 
He  mingled  light  and  shadow,  hope  and  fear.  It  cannot  truly 
be  said  that  either  one  of  these  two  mutual  opposites  predomi- 
nated in  Jesus,  whether  we  regard  him  in  his  person  or  in  his 
preaching.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  toward  the  close  of  his 
earthly  career,  the  animating  hope,  if  ever  such  hope  lived  in  his 
breast,  of  great  and  saving  results  for  his  nation  and  for  man- 
kind, to  flow  from  his  preaching,  seems  to  have  suffered  extinc- 
tion ;  and  the  darkness,  both  of  the  doom  impending  over  the 
guilty  Jewish  state,  and  of  the  end  awaiting  himself  in  Jerusalem, 
overshadowed  more  and  more  deeply  his  s})irit.  The  predictions, 
couched  now  in  parable  and  now  in  straightforward  statement, 
that  issued  from  his  lips,  w^ere  gloomy  in  the  extreme.  But 
even  these  were  relieved  with  gleams  of  promise  and  of  hope  — 
for  a  remnant ;  and  the  discourse  of  Jesus,  as  a  whole,  if  not  to  be 
pronounced  enlivening  rather  than  depressing,  was  at  least 
enlivening  as  well  as  depressing.  To  describe  his  preaching 
as   mainly  of   a   bright  and   cheering  tenor,  would  be  to  make  a 


488  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

serious  critical  mistake  of  disproportion  in  judgment.  He  saw 
things  as  they  were,  and  not  under  any  glamour  of  rose  color 
thrown  upon  them  from  a  light  and  happy  temperament  in  him- 
self. Solemnity  is  the  j)revailing  character  impressed  upon  the 
teaching  of  Jesus.  If  it  is  once  said  that  Jesus  "rejoiced  in 
spirit,"  that  note  of  mood  in  him  produces  on  the  reader  an 
effect  of  the  exceptional  rather  than  the  ordinary  ;  and  the  joy 
attributed  seems,  even  in  the  case  of  exception,  to  have  been  a 
joy  impressively  solemn  in  character.  The  church  has  made  no 
mistake,  all  these  Christian  centuries,  in  conceiving  her  Lord  as 
a  Man  of  Sorrows  and  Acquainted  with  Grief. 

Accordant  with  the  equipoise  in  Jesus  between  the  sanguine  and 
the  des])ondent,  in  his  way  of  regarding  the  world,  is  the  even- 
handed  justice  with  which  he  metes  out  his  awards  of  praise  and 
of  blame.  There  is,  however,— and  it  could  not  be  otherwise  if 
justice  prevailed  —  a  very  noticeable  predominance  of  blame  over 
praise  in  the  sentences  from  his  lips.  The  note  of  rebuke,  nay, 
even  of  heavy-shotted  denunciation,  is  very  strong  (and  this  note 
not  infrequently  recurs)  in  the  discourses  of  Jesus.  Nothing 
could  exceed  the  unrelieved,  the  red-hot,  the  white-hot,  indigna- 
tion and  damnation  launched  by  Jesus  against  certain  classes  and 
certain  individuals  among  his  hearers.  The  fierceness  indeed  is 
such  that  it  is  j)lainly  beyond  the  mark  of  what  could  properly 
be  drawn  into  precedent  for  any  other  preacher.  Jesus  is  hardly 
in  anything  else  more  entirely  put  outside  the  possibility  of 
classification  witii  his  human  lircthrcn,  than  in  the  article  now 
spoken  of. 

Of  the  j)hvsical  manner,  that  which  ina\-  he  callcil  elocution, 
in  Jesus  as  j)reacher,  we  have  absolutely  no  notice  in  the  histories 
extant  of  him.  Once  or  twice  indeed  it  is  noted  that  he  looked 
round  about  him  with  anger  at  the  hardness  of  heart  disj)layed 
by  certain  hearers  of  his  ;  and  once  that  looking  uj)on  a  young 
man  he  loved  him.  Such  hints,  rare  as  thev  are,  stinuilate  us  to 
imagine  that  the  features  of  Jesus  were  mobile  and  exjiressive 
during  his  sjjeech.  One  thing,  however,  we  instinctively  feel 
to  be  certain,  that  even  in  his  most  terrible  in\ecti\es  there  was 
no  violence  of  tone,  of   gesture,  or  of  nianiu-r.       II  tidelity  woulti 


JESUS  AS  PREACHER.  489 

not  permit  him  to  appear  relenting,  equally,  the    quality  of  love 
in  him  would  not  permit  him  to  be  vindictive. 

In  fine,  and  somewhat  abruptly,  by  way  of  even  doing  to  the 
present  topic  a  seeming  disparagement  required  by  truth,  it  must 
be  said  that  Jesus  as  preacher  was  in  his  own  view  nothing  what- 
ever in  importance  compared  with  Jesus  the  suffering  Savior. 
"I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me,"  he  said,  near  the 
end,  with  a  depth  of  meaning  and  pathos  be^'ond  reach  of  human 
plummet  to  sound  ;  and,  at  the  very  last,  "This  is  my  blood  of 
the  covenant,  which  is  shed  for  7nany."  What  his  preaching,  even 
his  preaching,  had  failed  to  effect,  it  remained  for  his  obedience 
unto  death,  the  death  of  the  cross,  to  accomplish.  His  preaching 
itself  thus  acknowledged  that  his  preaching  alone  was  vain. 
Jesus  as  preacher  preached  Jesus  as  Redeemer  by  blood.  He  set 
herein  an  example  which  every  faithful  minister  of  his  gospel, 
to  the  end  of  the  age,  must  follow. 


CHRIST  IN  ART. 


By    P  R  ( )  F  i;  s  s  t)  R    Rush    R  i  i  k  k  s  , 
The  Newton  Tlieological  Institution. 

When  Euscbius  was  asked  bv  the  sister  of  Constantine  for  a 
likeness  of  Christ,  he  reminded  her  that  she  could  not  expect  a 
likeness  of  his  unchangeable  nature,  nor  yet  of  his  glorified  hu- 
manitv.  The  only  possible  likeness  would  be  one  of  the  frail 
human  body,  which  he  carried  before  his  ascension.  E\-en  this 
last  was  unattainable,  since  the  Christians  could  tolerate  no  at- 
tempt to  portray  him  who  was  to  them  God  manifest  in  the  flesh. 
The  scruples  that  controlled  that  early  Christian  feeling  have 
long  since  vanished,  and  no  di\'ine  nustery,  whether  of  the  Trin- 
ity or  of  the  Eternal  "whom  no  man  hath  seen  nor  can  see,"  has 
been  unattempted  by  an  art  that  has  at  least  not  lacked  in  dar- 
ing. And  as  one  tm-ns  from  the  attempts  to  picture  the  Master 
of  us  all,  one  is  often  mo\'ed  to  feel  that  the  old  reserx-e  had 
adx'antages  that  might  commend  it  to  these  latter  days.  We  can- 
not think  of  Christ  aj^art  from  the  transcendent  asj)ects  of  his 
nature,  but  how  can  they  be  portrayed  ?  What  men  mean  for 
strength  and  dignity  often  appears  only  sternness.  What  they 
mean  for  boundless  compassion  appears  effeminacy.  Zeal  too 
often  becomes  mere  fanaticism.  Or  the  effort  to  combine  all  his 
characters  results  in  something  ncitlicr  human  nor  divine,  at  best 
an  im natural  symbol. 

It  is  gencralh'  conceded  that  no  tradition  has  came  down  to 
us  concerning  the  personal  a])pearance  ot  Jesus.  Doubtless  in 
the  Hrst  days  the  tlioiight  of  the  gloritu'd  Lord  who  wouhl  shortl\- 
come  again,  left  little  room  for  intt-rrst  in  thi-  form  wliich  he 
wore  in  the  days  of  his  humiliation.  .\  desciiption  |>ur|)orting 
t(j  conu-  from  a  contrmporar\-,  I.entuliis,  and  which  has  greatly 
influenced  modern  attempts  to  ])ortray  Jesus, is  apaljjaljle  forgery 
frcjm  about  the  twelfth  centiny.  The  so-called  miraculous  por- 
traits, said  to  have  been  imprintrd  on  cloths  by  Jesus  as  In-  w  ij)t(l 

400 


CHRIST  IN  ART.  49 1 

his  face  with  them,  and  to  have  been  given  one  to  Veronica,  the 
other  to  Abgarus,  are  also  apocryphal.  In  the  writings  of  the  first 
two  centuries  there  is  not  a  trace  of  any  description  of  the  Lord's 
appearance,  excepting  hints  that  relied  avowedly  on  inference 
drawn  from  Scriptures  such  as  Isaiah  53  :2,  3  and  Psalm  45  12-4, 
or  from  incidents  in  the  Lord's  own  life.      In  fact  there  were  two 


SYMBOLS   FROM   THE   CATACOMBS. 


diametrically  opposed  conceptions  current  in  the  Church, 
defended  by  passages  from  the  Old  Testament  such  as  those  just 
cited,  the  prevailing  opinion  in  the  earlier  time  being  that  the 
Lord's  personal  appearance  was  at  the  best  without  beauty  ;  while 
another  judgment  believed  that  he  was  "fairer  than  the  children 
of  men." 

Though  indulging  these  guesses  as  to  his  appearance,  it  is  not 
strange  that  the  early  Christians  shrank  from  the  idea  of  a  picture 
of  Christ.  Their  revolt  from  idolatry,  and  a  care  to  give  no 
ground  for  the  charge  that  they  were  simply  devotees  of  a  new 
idol    would    operate  to   prevent   their   making   pictures    of   their 


492  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

Master.  Furthermore  the  second  commandment  was  not  unnat- 
urally felt  to  forbid  the  making  of  any  image  of  the  "  Word  made 
flesh."  And  had  they  had  the  impulse  so  to  use  art  to  honor 
their  Lord  and  assist  their  devotion,  the  associations  of  the  only 
art  they  knew  with  the  excesses  of  idolatrous  worship,  and  with 
the  debauchery  of  heathen  life,  would  make  it  seem  an  unfit  hand- 
maid for  religion  j)ure  and  undefiled. 

Yet  the  early  years  were  not  without  some  artistic  expression. 
At  first  the  ventures  were  most  modest.  On  the  grave  of  some 
Christian,  or  the  stone  of  some  seal,  or  the  walls  of  a  chamber  in 
the  catacombs,  symbols  began  to  aj)})ear.  Commonest  among 
these  symbols  are  the  fish  and  the  monogram.  The  fish  had  the 
double  advantage  of  representing  in  itself  various  Christian  ideas 
such  as  baptism,  and  the  gathering  of  the  soul  into  the  church  ; 
and  of  carrying  in  the  Greek  form  of  its  name  an  anagram  of 
many  names  of  Christ.' 

The  monogram  dates  in  its  develojicd  form  at  least,  from  the 
time  of  Constantine.  It  consists  of  a  combination  of  the  first  two 
letters  of  the  Greek  word  X/oio-rds.  A  rarer  form  is  a  combination 
of  the  initial  letters  of  the  two  names  'It^o-oSsX/oio-tos.  These  doubt- 
less grew  out  of  a  use  of  the  simple  X  with  a  possible  double  refer- 
ence to  Christ  and  the  cross. 

To  these  [)ure  symbols  were  added  symbolic  scenes  from  the 
Old  Testament,  such  as  the  history  of  Jonah,  typifying  the  resur- 
rection; that  of  Daniel  in  the  lion's  den,  and  the  three  children  in 
the  furnace,  setting  forth  the  same  fact  ;  Moses  striking  the  rock, 
to  suggest  Christ  the  fountain  of  living  water ;  the  sacrifice  of 
Isaac  by  Abraham,  to  suggest  the  sacrifice  of  Christ.  Heathen 
mythology  also  furnished  symbols,  the  most  conunon  being 
Orpheus  charming  the  beasts,  to  suggest  Christ's  restoration  of 
harmony  to  the  creation.  With  these  symbols  there  a])i)ear  two 
others  drawn  from  the  New  Testament,  namely  the  Lamband  the 
Good  .She|)lu'rd.  This  last  is  perhaps  the  fa\-orite  one  of  all.  It 
is  found  on  the  walls  of  the  catacombs  of  St.  Callistus  and  of  St. 
Priscilla.as  well  as  in  other  ancient  cemeteries  and  on  early  sar- 
cophagi.   While  the  idea  C(Mues  from  the  New  restanuiit.  the  type 

»  IXeTS   -'It/o-oO?   Xpto-rds,  OfoO  'Ti6s,  'Ztj3T})p.     Jesus  Christ.  Cod's  Son,  Saviour. 


CHRIST  IN  ART. 


493 


of  representation  is  so  like  heathen  pictures  of  Apollo  feeding 
the  flocks  of  Admetus,  or  of  Hermes  the  Ram-bearer,  as  to  sug- 
gest that  the  Christians  have  merely  consecrated  a  current  type. 
One  possible  evidence  of  this  indebtedness  appears  in  the  fact 
that  in  some  of   the  pictures,  as   in  some  heathen  prototypes,   a 

goat  or  kid  takes  the  place  of  the 
lamb.  This  substitution  was  not, 
however,  unthinking,  since  in  one 
picture  the  Shepherd  with  the  kid 
stands  between  a  sheep  and  a 
o-oat.  It  is  doubtless  a  confession 
of  faith  in  the  wide  mercy  of  the 
Saviour,  and  perhaps  a  remon- 
strance against  the  rigor  of  the 
Montanists.' 

In  these  pictures  the  Good 
Shepherd  is  a  young  man,  beardless,  with  a  classic  face.  This 
too  was  an  inheritance  from  the  pre-Christian  days.  But  it 
seems  to  have  suited  the  ideas  of  the  Christians,  for  when  we 
find  them  venturing  on  more  than  a  symbolical  representation 
of  the  Lord,  this  type  of  face  is  the  one  adopted.  Christ  is  so 
pictured  in  several  scenes  taken  from  the  gospels, — notably  the 
raising  of  Lazarus,  the  scene  at  Jacob's  well,  the  miracle  of  the 
loaves  and  fishes, — as  well  as  in  pictures  of  the  Lord  on  his 
judgment   throne   with   the    books  before  him.      It  would   seem 

'  See  the  beautiful  sonnet  by  Matthew  Arnold. 

He  saves  the  sheep,  the  goats  he  doth  not  save, 
So  rang  Tertullian's  sentence,  on  the  side 
Of  that  unpitying  Phrygian  sect  which  cried  : 
"  Him  can  no  fount  of  fresh  forgiveness  lave, 
Who  sins,  once  washed  by  the  baptismal  wave." 
So  spake  the  fierce  Tertullian.     But  she  sighed, 
The  infant  Church  !    of  love  she  felt  the  tide 
Stream  on  her  from  the  Lord's  yet  recent  grave. 
And  then  she  smiled  ;  and  in  the  Catacombs, 
With  eye  suffused  but  heart  inspired  true, 
On  those  walls  subterranean,  where  she  hid 
Her  head  'mid  ignomony,  death  and  tombs, 
She  her  Good  Shepherd's  hasty  image  drew — 
And  on  his  shoulders,  not  a  lamb,  a  kid. 


494  TIfK  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

that  by  this  young  and  vigorous  type  of  face  the  Christians 
wished  to  express  their  belief  in  the  victorious  immortality 
of  their  ascended  Lord.  There  is  something  of  exultation 
in  their  conception,  which  shows  that  the  notion  that  Jesus 
was  without  comeliness,  was  applicable  in  their  thought  to  the 
state  of  Christ's  humiliation  only.  It  is  clearly  the  Lord  of  life 
and  glorv  rather  than  the  Man  of  sorrows  that  meets  us  in  the 
Catacombs. 

The  scruple  against  portraving  the  Lord  having  passed,  dif- 
ferent t\pcs  of  picture  became  current  according  as  one  or  another 
conception  of  Jesus  was  upjjcrmost  in  the  mind.  We  ha\'e  seen 
that  the  earlv  pictures  suggest  the  glorious  Lord,  now  at  the 
right  hand  of  power.  Towards  the  fourth  century  the  beardless 
face  gave  way  to  one  with  a  beard,  and  of  an  older  aspect.  The 
idea  that  the  appearance  of  Jesus  was  plain  or  e\'en  repellant  was 
one  that  the  growing  spirit  of  asceticism  in  the  church  eagerlv 
adopted.  And  as  this  spirit  laid  hold  on  the  church's  life,  a 
change  came  over  the  representations  of  Christ.  Graduallv  there 
became  current  a  tvpe  of  face  haggard,  full  of  grief,  marked  bv 
suffering,  a  type  emj)hasizing  strongly  the  sufferings  and  the 
humiliation  of  Christ  rather  than  his  present  glorv.  This  face 
is  older  than  the  earlier  tvjje,  and  is  bearded,  the  hair  also 
being  long  and  parted  in  the  middle.  This  conception  soon 
became  a  tradition  in  the  church,  and  any  de})arture  from  it 
was  held  to  savor  of  sacrilege.  It  is  known  as  the  HNzantine 
tyjje  and  is  found  in  most  old  mosaics  and  in  man\-  old 
paintings. 

The  beard  antl  the  long  hair  naturall\'  fit  with  the  notion 
that  Jesus,  like  John  the  Hajitist,  was  a  Nazarite.  These  actually 
apjjcared  independently  before  the  de\elopment  of  the  H\zan- 
tine  type,  and,  in  fact,  are  now  characteristics  of  the  artistic 
ideal  of  the  Christ  head.  Some  of  the  early  bearded  rej)rescnta- 
tions  of  Jesus  retain  the  beaul\'  anil  vigor  of  the  smooth-faced 
youth.  In  tiie  jnctures  of  Jesus,  in  fact,  tlifferent  conceptions  of 
him  found  differing  expression  ;  and  it  is  interesting  to  note  that 
the  two  so-called  miraculous  portraits  rej)resent  the  rival  tvj^es, 
the  uncomely  and  the  beautiful,       that  connected  with    the  name 


CHRIST  IN  ART. 


495 


of  Veronica  giving  the  thorn-crowned  man  of  sorrows,  while  the 
Abgarus  picture  shows  a  bearded  face,  youthful  and  fair.' 

This  diversity  of  conception  was  an  inevitable  result  of  the 
loss  of  all  record  of  Jesus'  actual  appearance,  and  also  of  the 
transcendence  of  his  nature   as  it  is  set  forth  in  the   New  Testa- 


MOSAIC   HEAD  OF  CHRIST   IN   THE   CHURCH   OF 
ST.  APOLLINARE,  RAVENNA. 

ment.  The  incarnation,  involving  as  it  does  the  union  of  the 
divine  and  human,  is  beyond  the  power  of  man  to  comprehend. 
Much  less  can  he  picture  it.  All  that  is  possible  is  an  apprehen- 
sion, more  or  less  adequate,  of  one  or  more  features  of  that  sur- 

'  For  the  early  period  see  especially  Bishop  Westcott's  essay,  The  Relation  of 
Christianity  to  Art,  in  his  Commentary  on  the  Epistles  of  St.  John,  Macmillan,  and  in 
his  Essays  in  the  History  of  Religious  Thought  in  the  West,  Macmillan,  1891.  See  also 
Archdeacon  Farrar's,  The  Life  of  Christ  as  Represented  in  Art,  Macmillan,  1894,  and 
Mrs.  Jameson's  The  History  of  Our  Lord  in  ^r^,  Longmans,  1865. 


496  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

passing  Person.  This  has  been  proved  by  the  course  of  Christian 
thinking  on  the  person  of  Christ.  It  is  evident  in  the  course  of 
Christian  art. 

The  types  of  representation  are  not  confined  to  the  two  which 
early  became  current.  The  development  of  Mariolatry  carried 
with  it  a  practical  if  not  avowed  transfer  of  the  characters  of  gen- 
tleness and  compassion  from  Jesus  to  Mary.  From  the  eleventh 
centur}-  on,  the  Last  Judgment  came  to  be  a  familiar  subject  for 
artistic  representation.  One  readily  recalls  the  frescoes  of 
Orcagna  in  the  Campo  Santo  at  Pisa,  many  paintings  by  P"ra  Angel- 
ico,  that  of  Michael  Angelo  in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  that  of  Tinto- 
retto at  Venice,  and  the  lurid  pictures  of  Rubens  at  Munich.  At 
first  Mary  was  represented  only  as  one  of  those  at  the  side  of  the 
Lord.  Later,  however,  she  appears  in  the  attitude  of  an  inter- 
cessor, seeking  to  soften  the  rigor  of  the  offended  Christ  who,  as 
Mrs.  Jameson  says,  appears  rather  as  prosecutor  than  as  judge. 
This  last  perversion  of  truth  has  not  escaped  criticism  even 
from  adorers  of  Mary.  But  it  shows  how  the  pictures  of  Christ 
are  the  register  of  the  artist's  conception  of  him. 

The  breaking  with  tradition  that  came  with  the  revival  of 
learning  led  to  a  general  abandoning  of  the  stereotyped  concep- 
tions that  were  ruling  sacred  art.  A  note  of  reality  entered  into 
it  that  was  fresh  and  individual.  This  appears  plainest  in  the 
representations  of  the  Madonna,  in  whom  human  beauty  and  ten- 
der motherhood  assert  their  rights  as  over  against  the  unearthly 
mode  of  representation  that  had  removed  her  far  from  common  life. 
Unfortunately  the  interest  of  that  day  found  so  much  more  to  its 
mind  in  the  Virgin  than  in  her  Son,  that  pictures  of  his  face  are 
relatively  rare.  In  such  as  exist,  however,  the  new  individuality 
of  concei)tion  aj)pears.  Reference  to  Michael  Angelo's  Last 
Judgment  has  already  been  made.  The  commanding  figure  of 
the  Lord,  stern  and  terrible,  visiting  vengeance  on  the  sinful 
world,  is  at  least  original.  if  we  rr])ucliale  the  conception  as 
false  in  its  severity,  losing  as  it  does  all  thought  of  "the  Lamb 
in  the  midst  of  the  throne,"  we  must  acknowledge  its  clearness 
and  force.  The  artist  has  made  it  till  his  conception  unmistak- 
ablv.      The  break  with  tradition,  however,  did  not  issue  in  a  gen- 


CHRIST  IN  ART.  497 

uine  realism.  The  Lord,  however  his  face  and  form  were  con- 
ceived, was  pictured  in  the  midst  of  ideal  or  distinctively  modern 
and  European  surroundings.  The  Last  Supper  of  Leonardo  da 
Vinci,  the  Miracle  at  Cana  by  Veronese,  the  Blessing  of  Little 
Children  bv  Rembrandt,  not  to  mention  the  earlier  and  more 
formal  works  of  Fra  Angelico,  do  not  carry  us  to  Palestine  and 
the  first  century ;  rather  they  are  altogether  ideal  compositions, 
or  Jesus  is  placed  in  an  Italian  or  German  environment, —  the 
general  scene,  the  type  of  face,  and  the  halo  or  nimbus  with  the 
conventional  garb  serving  to  identify  the  Lord. 

In  this,  sacred  art  followed  the  method  pursued  in  all  the 
painting  of  the  time.  Doubtless  the  archaeological  question 
hardly  occurred  to  these  men.  In  so  far  as  in  painting  Christ 
they  were  consciously  expressing  a  belief  rather  than  reproducing 
an  ancient  scene,  the  archaeological  consideration  would  be  indif- 
ferent to  them. 

Not  until  our  own  day  has  sacred  art  called  in  archaeology 
to  be  her  handmaid.  The  modern  study  of  the  life  of  Jesus,  in 
connection  with  its  social  and  material  conditions,  has  awakened 
an  interest  in  the  Bethlehem  stable,  and  the  Nazareth  home,  the 
hillsides  by  the  sea  of  Galilee,  and  the  Holy  City  with  its 
temple  and  palaces,  as  they  actually  appeared  when  our  Lord 
knew  them.  We  are  interested  to  know  what  he  wore,  what 
kind  of  books  he  read,  how  schools  were  conducted  in  Nazareth, 
and  what  sort  of  service  they  had  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath  in 
the  synagogues.  Inquiry  into  these  things  has  given  a  whole 
mass  of  new  material  to  artists  who  will  attempt  to  picture 
Christ. 

And  artists  have  not  been  slow  to  use  the  material  thus 
given.  We  now  have  a  picture  of  the  Visit  of  the  Shepherds 
to  the  Bethlehem  stable,  by  Le  RoUe,^  that  gives  a  new  reality 
to  the  record  of  that  first  Christmas  morning.  Holman  Hunt 
spent  many  years  of  study  in  Palestine  to  enable  him  to  tell  the 
stor}^  of  the  "  Boy  Jesus  in  the  Temple."  The  more  familiar 
picture  represents  the  moment  when  Mary  has  found  him  and  is 
leading  him  away  as  he  says:    "  How  is  it  that  ye  sought  me  ?  " 

'  See  illustration  on  page  438. 


49S  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

There  is  another  that  is  known  to  the  public  only  through  an 
engraving  published  in  the  Contemporary  Review  for  August, 
1890,  and  reproduced  in  Archdeacon  Farrar's  recent  book,  The 
Life  of  Christ  in  Art.  It  represents  the  boy  considering  the 
questions  of  the  Doctors.  The  engraving  is  not  at  first  sight 
attractive,  but  it  repays  study  because  of  its  minute  accuracy  of 
detail.  One  longs  to  see  the  original.  When  these  pictures  of 
Le  RoUe  and  Hunt  are  called  realistic  we  must  not  think  of 
them  as  lacking  in  ideality.  Thev  suggest  at  once  the  tran- 
scendent nature  of  the  subject  they  present,  and  that  not  only 
by  the  use  of  the  halo.  They  are  marked  by  a  reverence  and 
high  spiritual  insight  that  makes  their  realism  simply  a  contribu- 
tion to  our  knowledge  of  the  Word  made  Flesh  There  are 
other  realists  whose  religious  feeling  is  not  so  true.  Undeniably 
great  as  is  Muncacsy's  "  Christ  Before  Pilate,"^  fine  in  its  details, 
and  most  strong  in  its  conception,  yet  the  face  and  figure  have 
more  of  the  fanatic  in  them  than  suits  the  Friend  of  publicans 
and  sinners.  Even  less  satisfactory,  though  immensely  sug- 
gestive, are  the  Galilean  scenes  of  Verestchagin.  The  environ- 
ment in  these  pictures  is  excellent,  and  so  far  as  it  goes  the  repre- 
sentation of  Jesus  is  instructive,  but  it  fails  to  go  under  the 
surface  and  discover  what  Matthew  Arnold  called  the  sweet 
reasonableness  of  Jesus,  not  to  mention  the  more  transcendent 
qualities  that  no  painter  can  depict,  but  which  may  give  a 
j)icture  an  atmosphere  full  of  "  the  sense  sublime  of  something 
far  more  deej)ly  interfused." 

Even  more  noteworthy  than  the  strict  realistic  development 
in  religious  art  is  the  movement  represented  at  its  best  in  Ger- 
many by  Von  Uhde  and  Zimmermann,  and  less  attractively  in 
France  by  Bcraud.  The  aim  of  these  artists  seems  to  be  "  to 
represent  Christ  and  the  New  Testament  events  as  present  day 
actualities."  Vx\V/.  von  Uhde  is  called  the  apostle  of  the  move- 
ment. Having  resigned  a  commission  in  the  German  army,  he 
studied  jjainting  in  Munich  and  Paris,  and  in  1S.S4  e\hii)ited  his 
Suffer  Little  Children  to  Come  Unto  Me.  He  had  chosen  lor 
the  scene  a  German   peasant's  hf)use.  and    the  children  that  were 

'See  illustration  on  page  410. 


^^^^HB\jl.i-iJ 

^Pcj 

^^^  ''T^^^^H 

^^^^^^BI^Sh'^^^i^jK^^^^^I 

1    ^\ 

f^:                     ^Fy-^-^^^^^^^B 

j 

Lii 

Mi 

1 

1 

500  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

crowding  about  him  were  German  children.  All  was  conceived 
with  great  reverence,  and  executed  powerfully.  The  picture  at 
first  aroused  severe  criticism,  but  it  has  made  its  way  into  high 
fa\or.  Mention  mav  be  made  of  a  Holy  Night,  of  which  a 
copy  was  published  in  the  Christmas  number  of  TJie  Century  for 
1 89 1,  in  which  the  same  peculiarities  appear.  Especially  inter- 
esting are  the  intensely  modern  cherubs  that  are  introduced  into 
the  picture.  Prominent  among  others  of  Von  Uhde's  works  is  a 
Last  Supper.'  The  scene  is  a  German  peasant  house,  the  table 
and  its  furnishings  are  very  modern,  though  of  humble  sort  ;  the 
group  of  disciples  consists  of  humble  German  folk, —  plain, 
poor,  but  most  earnest.  The  moment  chosen  is  that  of  Judas' 
departure,  and  Jesus  seems  about  to  institute  the  Supper.  The 
grief  and  consternation  of  the  disciples,  together  with  most 
loving  attentiveness  to  whatever  he  will  say,  are  wondcrfullv  set 
forth.  There  is  much  more  in  the  same  spirit  from  this  artist. 
The  one  unsatisfactory  thing  in  his  work  is  the  Lord's  face.  It 
lacks  the  force  we  demand  in  it.  It  is  not  equal  to  the  rest  of 
Herr  von  Uhde's  conception. 

This  last  criticism  does  not  lie  against  another  artist  of  the 
same  school, —  Ernst  Zimmermann.  One  of  the  most  satis- 
factory of  recent  pictures  is  his  Christ  and  the  Fishermen.* 
The  moment  depicted  seems  to  be  that  when  Jesus  says  to 
Peter,  "  From  henceforth  thou  shalt  catch  men."  The  scene  is 
a  lake  side.  The  fishermen  have  left  their  boat,  and  the  Lord  is 
speaking  with  the  oldest  of  them,  while  all  listen  with  intense 
interest.  The  Lord's  face  is  in  profile,  which  may  account  for 
its  satisfactoriness,  leaving,  as  it  does,  something  for  each  devout 
imagination  to  sup])ly.  But  the  serious  earnestness,  the  con- 
sciousness of  a  high  mission,  that  ai)j)ear  in  it,  as  well  as  the 
affection  and  strength  apj)arcnt  in  the  wav  the  hands  lie  on  the 
old  man's  arm,  show  that  the  artist  has  a  deep  and  clear  thought 
of  Christ.  Much  the  same  figure  and  character  aj^pear  in  his 
Christus  Consolator,^  where  Christ  is  seen  bringing  healing 
to  a  dying  boy,  who  lies  on   a  j)allct   in   a  chami:)er  jiinchcd   by 

'  See  the  illustration  on  page  4(;tj. 

'See  the  illustration  on  page  477.         3 Sec  llic  iliustratinn  on  page  500. 


CHRIS T  IN  ART.  5 0 1 

very  modern  poverty.  Much  the  same  reverence  and  some  of 
the  like  power  are  to  be  seen  in  L'Hermitte's  Friend  of  the 
Lowly;'  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  The  Supper  at  Emmaus. 
It  has  become  familiar  to  very  many  through  its  exhibition  in 
Chicago  and  in  Boston. 

The  leading  French  representative  of  this  movement,  Jean 
Beraud,  while  strong  and  most  original  in  his  work,  is  not 
so  satisfying.  In  his  choice  of  scenes  and  his  treatment  of 
them  there  is  an  element  of  criticism  of  modern  life  that  has 
been  well  termed  sarcastic.  Criticism  life  clearly  needs,  but 
these  introductions  of  Christ,  and  especially  of  Christ  and  his 
cross,  into  Parisian  surroundings  are  at  first  sight  repellant. 
However,  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  crucifixion  was  Jeru- 
salem's condemnation  for  its  blindness  and  hypocrisy,  far  more 
than  its  execution  of  a  disturbing  enthusiast,  and  that  these 
pictures  are  a  powerful  sermon  addressed  to  modern  pride  and 
godlessness.  The  hopeful  feature  in  all  this  movement  is  that 
it  is  evidently  art  with  a  message,  and  that  a  most  earnest  one. 
It  has  taken  hold  on  some  aspects  of  truth  concerning  the  Lord, 
it  has  felt  their  universalitv,  and  in  this  way  it  most  forcibly 
asserts  their  pertinence  to  our  day,  and  our  day's  need  alike  of 
Christ's  rebuke,  and  of  his  tenderness  and  inspiration. 

In  idea,  though  not  in  method,  there  should  be  associated 
with  these  last  mystical  realists,  a  group  of  men  who  in  method 
follow  more  nearly  the  older  lines  of  representation  and,  in  pic- 
turing Christ,  go  for  details  of  architecture  and  dress  partly  to  a 
knowledge  of  archaeology,  but  more  to  a  fertile  and  chaste 
imagination.  They  may  be  called  the  idealists  pure  and  simple. 
Of  these  Hoffmann  is  the  easy  leader.  His  pictures  are  so  well 
known  that  it  is  necessary  only  to  call  attention  to  one  that  has 
recently  been  reproduced  in  photograph.  It  is  Christ  in  the 
House  of  Mary  and  Martha.  The  face  is  the  same  that  has 
become  familiar  in  this  artist's  work  ^  and  the  story  is  sweetly  and 
profoundly  told.  Plockhorst,  whose  Good  Shepherd  is  familiar, 
is  of  the  same  school  with  Hoffmann.     It    is    probable   that   we 

'See  illustration  on  page  517. 

'  See,  for  instance,  the  cover  of  this  number  and  the  frontispiece. 


502  THI'.   nilil.lCAI.    WORLD. 

should  class  with  \\\v  work  ol  tht-st-  idi-alisls  also  a  rcniarkahie 
picture  ot  tlu-  "  1  i-niptat idu  "  \i\  (i.  Coniicclius.  It  is  siniplx'  a 
ilohlc  Vacv  wrapped  in  iiilt-usi'  tiioug'ht — note  llow  tlu-  k-tt  hand 
j^rips  tlu-  w  list  whiU'  the  sui^ni-st  ion  ol  eas\'  empire  whieh  eonu'S 
Iroin  tlu'  l)i'\il  who  sc-eks  to  put  a  iiowii  on  lesus'  head,  reveals 
the  leasoii  loi'  the  intense'  i;'azt'  which  tells  ol  battle  W'.'iu^'ini;'  in 
the  heart.  llie  realit\  ol  "  sulleiin^' "  in  tc'niplat  ion.  tom'tluT 
with  conipK-tc-  Ireedoin  troin  the  taint  ol  tlu-  least  surrender,  are 
in,ii\  elousl\    pictured   here. 

I  low  intei-estin^'  it  would  he  to  consider  the  work  ol  Rosselti 
and  Millais  and  Hurne- Jones,  ol  the  new  Russian  school  led  by 
Nicholas  (ia\-,  ol'  Morc-lli  in  ltal\,  and  Carl  liloch  ainonL;"  the 
Scaiidina\ians!  Hut  the  aim  ol  this  paper  is  not  a  history,  only 
a  hint  at  some  t)l  tlu-  relations  ol  Christ  to  art  and  some  ol"  the 
ways  men  ha\o  ihoseii  to  drpict  him.  .Siuh  a  consideration 
leaves  tlu-  coiuiction  that  it  is  wi'll  that  w  (.■  ha\i'  no  cop\-  ol  his 
earthU'  features,  it  is  well  that  dillerent  conceptions  ol  him  seek 
expression  in  piciun-s.  {'"or  oui  lac-k  ol  an  autlu-ntii'  [)rotrait 
forces  a  closer  stud\'  of  that  other  portrait  found  in  1  he  gospels, 
to  which  l'.us(.-l)ius  conniu-iuK-d  his  h'anpress.  .And  tlu'  dixersity 
ol  ri'pie.sriitations  forces  us  to  ciitit'isi-  the  concept  ions  that  have 
so  found  expri-.ssion.  ami  Uads  to  the  disco\'er\'  that  Christ  is 
too  larL;'e  for  our  full  comprelu-nsion,  ami  that  whiU-  our  heads 
arc-  |)u/./.linjj;' (jver  the  problem  his  nature  has  si-t  to  our  thou^'ht, 
our  hearts  can  largely  and  fri-el\   approi)riate  him. 


THE   TEMPTATION. 

—CORNICELIUS. 


CHRIST  IN   POETRY. 


By  the    Rev.    P'rank   W.   Gunsaulus,   D.D. 
Chicago,  Illinois. 


The  dictum  of  Plato  concerning  good  poetry  has  not  lacked 
for  impressive  testimony  to  its  truth,  in  the  influence  of  the  cen- 
tral fact  of  history,  as  it  has  touched  upon  that  art  and  in  the 
attitude  of  the  poetic  art  itself  to  the  fact  —  the  incarnation  of 
God  in  Christ.  Said  the  Greek  philosopher:  "All  good  poets, 
epic  as  well  as  lyric,  compose  their  beautiful  poems,  not  as  works 
of  art,  but  because  they  are  inspired  or  possessed."  Remember- 
ing what  a  feeble  apprehension  he  had  of  the  radical  significance 
of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  life  and  hope  of  man,  we  are  not  surprised 
at  the  method  with  which  Matthew  Arnold  dealt  with  human 
problems,  and  the  alleviations  he  offered  for  them.  It  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  he  furnishes  an  example  of  how  surely  even  the 
most  poetic  fact  of  all  time  missed  the  {privilege  of  enlarging  and 
harmonizing  one  of  the  voices  of  our  own  time,  because  his  spirit 
would  be  neither  "inspired  or  possessed  "  by  it.  Mention  is  made 
of  this  fine  figure  in  the  history  of  that  poetical  literature  which 
refers  to  Christ,  because,  at  the  outset  of  the  study,  it  is  well  to 
reflect  that  the  first  thing  demanded  by  Christ,  either  for  salva- 
tion or  for  poetic  representation,  is  the  open  soul,  the  child-spirit 
—  something  capable  of  being  "inspired  or  possessed."  This 
caj)acity  for  being  "inspired  or  possessed"  Christ  himself 
acknowledged  that  he  must  have  before  he  might  bless  or  redeem, 
"We  are  saved  by  faith."  From  poet  to  poet  Christ  has  gone 
in  vain,  "because  of  their  little  faith."  Matthew  Arnohl  was  a 
musician  with  fine  and  ex(|uisite  ear  for  truth  and  beauty  and 
gotjdness,  with  a  voice  of  somewhat  thin  (]uality  and  yet  of  sure- 
footed mastery,  as  he  attempted  his  characteristic  trel)le-tones, 
preferring  minor  to  major,  his  whole  personality  dominated  by 
such  high  intellectual  power  and  such  preconceived  theories  as 
to  what  is  indeed  "the  song  with  which  the  morning  stars  sang 

504 


CHRIST  IN  POETRY.  505 

together,"  that  the  deep  and  universal  theme  and  strain  which 
reached  its  complete  expression  in  Jesus  Christ  pleaded  in  vain 
at  the  portals  of  his  soul  and  therefore  could  not  either  "inspire 
or  possess  him."  He  was  a  Greek,  questioning,  acute,  wise,  and 
sad.  Plato  was  Greek,  and  more,  —  for  he  was  so  human  as  to 
be  a  prophet  of  the  Christ,  as  were  Isaiah  and  Virgil.  The  differ- 
ence between  Plato  and  Arnold  may  be  seen  in  the  comparison 
of  the  statement  of  Plato  with  that  of  Arnold,  when  this  more 
recent  thinker  tells  us  that  "poetry  is  the  criticism  of  life."  One, 
in  pre-Christian  days,  touches  the  essential  method  of  Christ- 
finding  and  truth-getting  by  pleading  for  that  receptive,  open- 
souled  hospitality  for  experiences  by  which  he  may  be  "inspired 
or  possessed;"  the  other,  in  Christian  days,  reverts  to  a  method 
by  which  even  the  highest  pre-Christian  truth  was  missed.  In 
those  days  men  possessed  themselves  in  self-contained  and  impe- 
rious calm.  The  poet  is  always  the  organ  of  a  voice  and  a  theme 
above  him. 

The  place  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  world's  poetry  may  only  be 
partially  intimated  here  ;  but  a  few  of  the  illustrations  of  how  the 
poetry  which  has  worshipped  him  has  been  saved  and  exalted  by 
him  are  possible  in  such  a  brief  excursus ;  and  from  them  it  is 
clear  that  Christianity  has  never  been  able  to  undo  its  essential 
nature  by  violating  its  own  spiritual  method.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  has  uttered  itself  on  the  lyres  of  the  greatest  poets  because, 
not  so  much  by  the  genius  of  this  world  alone,  but  by  the  genius 
which  is  open  to  the  whispers  of  the  universe,  the  highest  souls 
have  been  the  humblest.  Therefore  they  have  been  so  "  possessed 
and  inspired"  that  his  divine  glory  has  made  their  song  immortal. 

The  poetry  of  Christianity  may  say,  "I  am  apprehended  of 
Christ  that  I  may  apprehend"  the  meaning  of  the  world,  the  sig- 
nificance of  man's  life  and  struggle,  the  immeasurable  hope  and 
destiny,  the  open  secret  of  Omniscient  God.  Only  as  any  poetry 
is  the  result  of  the  mutual  life  of  mind  and  heart,  as  they  are 
"inspired  or  possessed,"  by  truth  revealed  to  man,  as  he  is  influ- 
enced by  plans  higher  than  man's  limping  thought,  is  it  a  worthy 
"criticism  of  life."  Only  as  any  poetry  records  the  supreme  spirit- 
ual events,  not  unreasonable  but  above  the  ken  of  reason  alone,  and 


506  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD. 

visions  of  being  to  which  men  \wa.\  aspire,  is  it,  or  can  it  be,  a  true 
"criticism  of  life."  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  as  Saviour  and  Master, 
is  life's  truest,  because  life's  most  hopeful  and  sympathetic  critic, 
flooding  life's  realm  and  process  by  the  radiance  of  himself,  at 
once  man's  revelation  of  God  and  God's  revelation  of  man. 

His  presence  in  the  plan  of  God,  in  the  universal  movement, 
leading 

"to  that  divine  far-off  event 
Toward  which  the  whole  creation  moves," 

his  existence  and  influence  in  the  groaning  system  of  incomplete 
creation  as  the  Reason  which  was  from  the  beginning  and  will  be 
the  Reason  for  it  all  at  the  consummation,  his  [)rogress  through 
the  life  of  man's  up-looking  and  seeking  spirit,  the  hope  of  him 
which  was  the  inevitable  product  of  the  soul  as  it  was  constituted 
and  led  bv  God  through  the  evolution  of  its  life  antl  ideal- — • 
these  are  within,  if  they  have  not  created  that  melodious  rune 
which  sings  in  the  changing  mass  called  nature.  Poetry  wit- 
nesses that  these  have  made  the  "mighty  riddle  of  that  rhythmic 
breath"  in  the  world  of  man's  thought  and  sentiment  which 
"suffers  him  not  to  rest."  Poetry  is  the  art  which  taj:)s  this  cen- 
tral, elemental  stream  which  "flows  through  all  things,"  and, 
listening  to  its  harmony,  finding  that  it  has  disco\'ered  and  has 
been  made  rluthmic  with  the  musical  theme,  the  |)oet's  soul 
obeys,  because  it  is  "inspired  and  possessed"  bv  this  imj)erati\e 
cadence.  When  it  expresses  its  experience  with  all  j:)Ossible  fit- 
ness the  result  is  undving  verse. 

Therefore  the  psalmists  and  prophets  were  men  almost  neces- 
sarily poetic.  Poetry  came  when  a  Jacob  wrestled  until  the  break- 
ing of  the  day  with  what  seemed  the  incarnate  Infinite,  though 
it  were  called  u\\\\  an  angel  ;  or  wluii,  like  Moses,  a  luie  luinian 
eye,  looking  through  flame  and  feeling  that  truth  or  goodness 
may  not  be  binned,  had  listened  to  the  Paternal  in  a  burning 
acacia  bush  ;  or  when,  with  the  hot  blast  of  life's  problem  burst- 
ing from  a  fiery  furnace  one  saw  a  form  like  unto  the  Son  ol  God  ; 
or  when  out  (jf  an  abyss  of  des])air  a  soul,  like  Job's  st)ul,  cries 
for  a  daysman  that  shall  stand  l)etween  God  and  man  ;  or  when 
a  lawgiver,  knowing  tlu-  inipott-nce  of  .Sinai  to  govern  men,  looks 


CHRIST  IN  POETRY.  507 

ever  so  vaguely  for  a  lawgiver  whose  law  shall  have  an  authority 
like  that  of  Calvary,  toward  whose  altar  all  other  altars  seem  to 
lean.  Whatever  opinions  one  ma}'  entertain  as  to  the  supernat- 
ural element  in  Hebrew  prophecy  and  psalmody  in  the  sacred 
writings,  it  is  impossible  to  suppose  that  minds  willing  to  be 
"inspired  or  possessed,"  who  are  therefore  poetic  in  temper  and 
method,  should  miss  the  fact  that  nature  and  life  are  persistently 
enthroning  a  human  manifestation  of  the  divine,  and  that  a 
Christmas-day  is  drawing  nigh  somewhere  and  somewhen. 

Virgil's  fourth  eclogue  is  to  Christian  poetry  what  Plato's 
vision  of  the  "God-inspired  man"  is  to  Christian  prose.  It 
does  not  at  all  change  the  value  of  that  poetry  which,  in  the  elo- 
quent lines  of  Isaiah  and  other  Jewish  seers,  exalts  Christ,  that 
we  discover  a  noble  propriety  in  the  poem  written  on  Virgil's 
tomb  by  a  Christian  singer  ;  Dante  himself  might  well  acknowl- 
edge that  the  pagan,  Virgil,  had  made  him  a  Christian,  as  the 
Florentine  sings  to  the  Roman, 

"  On  toward  Parnassus  thou  did'st  lead 

My  faltering  steps,  and  in  its  grots  I  drank  ; 

And  thou  did'st  light  my  wending  way  to  God." 

Beneath  all  the  shadowy  dreams  of  Israel  and  throughout  all  the 
expectant  adoration  of  Messiah  which  sang  its  hope  in  the  lines 
of  prophet  or  bard  in  Hebrewdom,  not  less  than  in  that  "still  sad 
music  of  humanity"  which  rises  to  the  lips  of  pagan  poetry,  a 
true  philosopher  of  literature  and  religion  will  see  man  obedient 
and  hopeful  in  the  presence  of  great  symbolic  ideals  pointing 
Christward.  These  are  the  crude  ore  of  poetry.  Humanity  has 
in  all  loftiest  hours,  when  higher  ideals  have  hurried  men  away 
at  the  cost  of  losing  lower  ideals,  "drunk  of  that  spiritual  rock 
which  followed  them  ;  and  that  rock  was  Christ."  This  min- 
strelsy has  glorified  the  Redeemer.  It  was  not  strange  that  at 
the  birth  of  Jesus  the  seeds  of  song  garnered  from  the  past 
should  sprout  and  bloom  instantly  in  the  sunnv  day  of  that  first 
Christmas.  The  old  Hebrew  verses  melodious  on  the  lips  of 
those  who  had  waited  long,  the  o'erheard  wafts  of  psalmody  of 
God's  messengers,  were  gracious  and  divine  overtures  to  that 
vast  oratorio  of  Christmas-song  in  which  saint  and  martyr,  mys- 


508  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

tic  and  hero,  ecstatic  monk  and  poetic  queen,  have  prolonged 
the  harmony  until  the  days  of  Kirke  White,  Keble,  and  Phillips 
Brooks.  From  Christmas-time  to  Christmas-time  new  song- 
movements  have  entered  into  this  verse.  The  age  of  Ignatius  is 
not  more  different  from  the  era  of  the  Salvation  Army  than  are 
the  resonant  lines  that  tell  of  the  birth  of  Christ.  Human  pain 
has  told  its  character  and  quality  in  the  new  adaptation  to  human 
deliverance  which  poetr)-  has  found  in  the  Christ-child.  Indeed, 
this  constant  changefulness  of  human  circumstance  and  want  has 
made  the  pictures  of  every  event  in  Christ's  life  completer  and 
truer;  and  each  song,  enshrining  in  its  worship  any  place  in  his 
career  on  earth,  in  the  form  of  hymn  or  poem,  has  made  him  no 
less  the  king  of  all  the  ages  because  in  it  he  has  appeared  so 
adorable  in  a  special  age. 

This  fact  gives  an  age  its  characteristic  Christian  poem. 
Dante's  "  Inferno  "is  to  the  poetry  what  the  "Stabat  Mater  Dolo- 
rosa" is  to  the  music  of  the  Middle  Ages;  what  the  "Magna 
Charta"  of  the  Norman  Barons  is  to  the  politics;  what  Thomas 
A'Kcmpis'  "Imitation  of  Christ"  is  to  the  prose;  what  Angelo's 
"Moses"  is  to  the  sculpture;  what  the  Milan  Cathedral  is  to  the 
architecture;  what  St.  Bernard's  "Sermons  on  the  Crusade"  are 
to  the  eloquence  ;  what  Fra  Angelico's  angels  on  the  walls  of  St. 
Mark's,  Florence,  are  to  the  painting  of  the  same  worshipping 
twilight  time.  The  "Stabat  Mater"  is  both  literature  and  song, 
and  it  is  not  only,  as  it  has  been  characterized,  the  most  pathetic, 
—  it  is  the  most  characteristic  hymn  of  mediaeval  time.  It  is  an 
illustration  of  what  fortune  befalls  a  great  emotion  and  experience 
as  they  take  their  memorial  form  in  hvmnology.  Emilio  Cas- 
telar  speaks  of  the  Middle  Ages  —  that  time  of  mingled  light 
and  shadow  between  the  date  of  the  fall  of  the  western  end  of 
the  old  Roman  empire  and  that  of  the  revival  of  learning  —  the 
long  thousand  years  of  gloom  between  the  death  of  the  old  and 
the  birth  of  the  new  civilization  —  as  the  Good  Friday  of  human 
history.  This  hymn  is  that  dark  day's  intcrj)retali()n  in  melody. 
Dante  himself  was  the  loftiest  of  the  j^rophets  of  that  larger 
Christ-portrait  which  he  did  so  much  to  give  to  our  modern 
poets,  in  order  that  they  may  bring  it  nearer  to  completion. 


CHRISTUS  CONSOLATOR. 

—ZIMMERMAi\i\ . 


510  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

Toward  that  complete  picture  each  age's  care  or  sorrow  con- 
tributes something.  The  first  Christmas  was  prophetic  of  that 
perpetual  Christmas  morning  which  is  constituted  by  human  his- 
tory, when  Christ's  re-coming  in  divinely  "possessed  and  inspired" 
humanity  shall  bring  the  Kingdom  of  God,  and  domesticate  here 
below  the  City  of  God  "  that  cometh  down  out  of  heaven."  He 
said.:  "It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away."  "  I  will  come 
again  and  receive  you  unto  myself."  Ever}^  succeeding  age  per- 
ceives and  acknowledges  this  divine  exj)etliencv.  In  a  sense 
deep  and  significant,  throughout  his  whole  career  on  earth, 
Christ  was  trying  to  get  his  followers  to  see  how  God  yearns  to 
possess  and  inspire  men.  He  regarded  himself  as  the  head  of 
humanity.  He  would  not  separate  himself  from  the  race,  even 
so  far  as  the  worship  of  his  disciples  suggested.  "Worship  God," 
he  said,  "My  Father — he  doeth  the  works."  But  he  bound 
them  to  himself  in  the  high  j^rivilcge  of  their  being  recipients  of 
the  divine.  This  they  share  with  him.  He  even  went  so  far  as 
to  say,  "The  glory  which  thou  gavest  unto  me,  I  have  given  unto 
them."  He  gave  men  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God,  and 
he  had  revealed  the  possibilities  of  sonship.  In  this  he  was 
beginning  that  process  of  persuading  his  disciples  to  be  "inspired 
and  j:)ossessed  "  of  the  divine  life,  as  he  was, —  a  process  which 
he  continued  and  made  uKjrc  nearly  sure  of  comj)letion  when  he 
said  :  "  It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away."  He  wished  men 
to  live  by  the  Spirit  He  knew  that  in  sending  the  Spirit  he 
would  send  into  man's  life  the  soul  of  a  di\'ine  society  which 
would  be  slowly  formed  in  the  society  of  men  l)v  their  obedience 
to  the  things  of  his,  which  the  sj)irit  would  show  unto  them. 
Thus  would  he  prepare  for  and  accomplish  his  own  second  com- 
ing "with  clouds  and  great  glory."  This  continuous  event  — 
the  second  coming  of  our  Lord  —  may,  or  may  not,  issue  in  a 
single  sublime  crisis.  This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  that  jjrob- 
lem.  It,  however,  certainly  is  occurring.  The  j)romise  he  made 
is  actually  l)eing  fulfilled;  and  it  is  in  this  new  coming  ot  Christ, 
as  a  power  by  which  men's  thoughts  and  sentiments  and  purposes 
are  "inspired  or  ])ossessed,"  that  j)oetry  finds  ample  themes,  its 
situations  of  genuine  nobility,  its  utterances  of  fairest  prophecy. 


CHRIS T  IN  POETRY.  5  1 1 

Indeed,  the  history  of  the  development  of  the  Christ-idea  as 
Redeemer  and  Lord  of  humanity,  the  judge  of  all  the  earth,  and 
the  express  image  of  God's  person  in  history,  may  be  found  only 
in  this  form  of  literature.  He  has  given  to  poetry  its  true  epic 
movement,  reaching  a  more  heroic  dignity  in  each  age  ;  he  has 
invested  its  labors  with  the  task  of  uttering  fitly  the  eternal  drama 
of  man  ;  in  his  presence  in  life  and  struggle  the  lyric  voices  have 
caught  for  themselves  the  purest  and  clearest  tones,  and,  espe- 
cially in  recent  verse,  poetry  has  proven  her  profound  instinct 
for  truth  by  running  far  in  advance  of  theological  statements  and 
becoming  prophetic  of  a  more  Christian  orthodoxy.  The  two 
poets  whose  dust  has  recently  been  entombed  in  Westminster 
Abbey  have  been  more  vitally  effective  in  enthroning  Christ 
Jesus  than  all  the  divines  of  Westminster ;  and  the  singers  of 
that  Christianity  whose  Christ  is  coming  again  in  every  form  of 
righteousness  and  peace  to  make  the  creature,  man,  a  S07i  of  God, 
are  leading  more  worshipers  to  Calvary  and  Olivet  than  even 
the  framers  of  the  historic  confession  and  catechism.  So,  con- 
fining ourselves  to  one  illustration,  we  may  perceive  how  the  liv- 
ing Christ  is  greater  even  than  the  historic  Christ,  as  he  is  pre- 
sented by  another  age's  highest  poetry. 

If  we  compare  John  Milton,  "organ-voice  of  England,"  with 
Robert  Browning,  who  has  a  voice  of  less  volume  and  richness  of 
tone,  we  readily  find  that  the  Christ  of  "  Paradise  Lost"  or  "  Par- 
adise Regained"  is  as  much  less  influential  amidst  the  sovereign- 
ties of  time  and  eternity,  as  the  merely  historic  Christ  is  far 
removed  from  that  perpetual  human  problem  in  which  the  ever- 
present  Christ  is  creating  a  continuous  and  freshly-born  Christmas 
day  as  King  of  Kings  and  Lord  of  Lords.  Taine  is  quite  right 
in  noting  that  much  of  the  spectacle  and  movement  of  the  divine 
in  Milton's  poetry  was  conditioned,  if  not  produced,  by  the  times 
of  Charles  I.  of  England.  It  is  not  a  confession,  either  of  igno- 
rance or  irreverence  with  regard  to  the  great  Puritan,  to  say  that 
lofty  as  was  his  genius  and  rich  as  was  his  music,  thev  never 
touched  the  deeps  of  the  human  problem  nor  did  they  reach  the 
moral  altitudes  in  which  yearning  and  buffeted  humanit}'  has  at 
length  found  peace  with   God.      To  a  soul  asking  the  questions 


512  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD. 

suggested  in  "  Hamlet  "  and  "  Faust,"  not  less  than  to  a  spirit 
perplexed  with  Lucretius  or  yEschylus,  the  splendid  coronation 
of  Jesus  of  Nazareth  in  Milton's  best  verse  seems  external  and 
objective,  not  to  sav  theatrical.  The  questions  of  life  and  time 
that  pulse  in  the  speech  of  the  heart  of  man,  until  it  grows  a  little 
weary  of  the  trumpet-strains  of  IMilton,  are  not  modern  or  ancient 
queries  ;  they  belong  to  the  soul  of  man  and  are  uttered  insist- 
ently whenever  the  soul  has  dared  to  reflect.  Adam  and  Eve, 
"  imparadised  in  one  another's  arms  "  are  less  interesting  to  the 
mind  of  man,  as  he  feels  for  a  Christ,  than  some  spiritual  Samson, 

"  Fallen  on  evil  days  and  evil  tongues, 
With  darkness  and  with  danger  compassed  round." 

But  even  a  Christ  for  Samson  is  not  sufficient.  Doubtless  Goethe 
was  right  ;  one  of  Milton's  poems  has  "more  of  the  antique 
spirit  than  any  other  production  of  any  other  modern  poet,"  but 
it  is  not  antiquity,  or  modernity,  of  spirit  by  which  poetry,  at 
length,  has  been  gladlv  led  to  crown  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ;  it  is  the 
ageless  and  permanent  spirit  of  man  which,  by  elemental  asso- 
ciations and  needs,  is  destined  to  find  a  way  to  God.  It  would 
not  have  been  enough  if,  when  in  his  day  Milton  had  met  the 
queries  of  Giordano  Bruno  which  still  echoed  at  Oxford,  or  after 
the  poet's  visit  to  Galileo,  he  had  been  less  wavering  between 
the  Copernican  or  Ptolemaic  systems  ;  the  truth  is  that  life  has 
gone  deeper  and  higher ;  it  has  grown  larger  needs,  and  the 
Christ  answering  to  its  thirst  is  greater.  It  is  not  true  to  say 
that  our  age  has  little  else  than 

"This  vile  hungering  imj)ulse,  this  demon  within  us  of  craving." 
The   Christ   shining   in   each   age's   poetry,  in   s])ite  of  the  age's 
limitations,  has  made  a  new  and  larger  ])ortrait  of  man's  Saviour 
necessary  in  the  next  age.      He  himself  has  confronted  the  soul's 
instincts  — 

"Which,  be  they  what  they  may, 
Are  yet  the  fountain  light  of  all  our  day, 
Are  yet  the  master  light  of  all  our  seeing — " 

and  it  is  He  who  has  said  to  the  greater  hopes  which  arc  children 
of  greater  sjM'ritual  struggles:  "If  it  wire  not  so,  I  would  have 
told  you." 


CHRIS  T  IN  POETRY.  5  I  3 

The  life-hunger  which  feeds  upon  the  Christ  of  Robert 
Browning's  poetry  is  not  entirely  the  product  of  the  two  centu- 
ries lying  between  the  date  of  "  Paradise  Regained"  and  the  date 
of  "Saul;"  still  less  will  the  excellence  of  Browning's  product 
account  for  the  fact  that  it  does,  while  that  of  Milton's  does  not, 
woo  man's  soul  to  adoration  of  the  Christ.  Browning's  "Saul" 
is  greater  than  any  figure  of  Milton's  verse,  not  as  a  creation  by 
a  better  writer  of  rhymes,  but  only  as  a  discovery  of  what  is  in 
man's  heart  and  life,  and  of  what  no  intervening  centuries  may 
make,  namely,  the  hunger  of  the  soul  for  redemption.  The  eye- 
glance  of  Browning  brings  to  light  the  elemental  facts  in  view  of 
which  there  was  "  a  lamb  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world." 
It  is  the  redemption  of  his  poetry  —  this  Christ-thirst  —  which 
cries  with  3'oung  David  : 

"  O  Saul,  it  shall  be 
A  face  like  my  face  receives  thee  :  a  Man  like  to  me, 
Thou  shall  love  and  be  loved  by,  forever!  a  hand  like  this  hand 
Shall  throw  open  the  gates  of  new  life  to  thee  !     See  the 
Christ  stand  !  " 

This  poem  illustrates  the  force  of  the  ageless,  preexistent  and  post- 
existent  Christ,  no  more  than  does  one  of  the  poems  of  Browning 
which  is  full  of  a  classical  atmosphere.  It  is  more  significant 
than  that  in  which  Milton  learned  of  Virgil.  In  the  poem, 
"Cleon,"  the  modern  singer  has  not  so  much  reproduced  the 
accent  as  the  spiritual  experience  which  speaks  out  of  the  weary 
and  unsatisfied  heart  of  ancient  life.  Its  tone  is  both  modern 
and  ancient.  The  poet's  feeling  is  as  old  and  young  as  the  soul. 
Cleon  cannot  avoid  uttering  his  prophetic  words  that  cry  for 
Christ,  even  though  he  may  despise  Paulus  and  stand  pledged  to 
honor  the  dumb  Zeus.  The  value  of  such  an  offering  as  is  this 
poem  to  the  worship  of  Jesus  lies  not  less  in  its  swift,  bold  portrai- 
ture of  the  real  Christ  than  in  its  perception  of  the  fact  that 
paganism  in  any  soul,  ancient  or  modern,  has  the  agonizing  need 
which  was  experienced  at  that  hour  of  the  Greek  decadence, 
Mrs.  Browning  more  lyrically  sings  of  the  vacant  world  when 
Pan  was  dead ;  but  Robert  Browning  alone  has  left  a  vivid 
portrait  of  the  soul  of  man  at  that  hour  when,  Cleon-like  —  poet 


SM  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

painter,  and  artist  in  method  and  in  thuuglit  —  the  soul  looks 
Christ-ward  through  mists  of  death,  saving,  as  if  to  Him  who 
brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  — 

"  I  dare  at  times  imagine  to  my  need, 
Some  future  state  revealed  to  us  by  Zeus, 
Unlimited  in  ca])ability 
For  joy,  as  this  is  in  desire  for  joy. 
To  seek  which  the  jov-lumger  forces  us." 

So  does  poetry  rear  her  motlest  rose  where  Christ  answers  the 
thorniest  doubt.  Milton  had  no  such  temptations  or  doubts  to 
be  met  by  his  genius  for  faith,  antl  therefore  he  could  not  offer 
such  a  portrait  of  what  is  essential  in   Christ.      Browning  sings  : 

"  Why  come  temptations  but  for  man  to  meet 
And  master  and  make  crouch  beneath  his  feet?" 

and 

"  I  prize  the  doubt 
Low  things  exist  without, 
Finished  and  finite  clods,  untroubled  by  a  spark." 

Each  age's  Christ  creates,  by  disj)lacemcnt  of  ideals  born  of  need, 
a  larger  area  of  doubt  around  the  fact  of  faith.  Browning's  age 
has  apprehended  a  reality  more  nearly  as  great  as  is  the  Christ 
of  God,  because  of  its  greater  necessities.  I^^\erv  new  age  is  a 
new  Christmas-dawn  for  the  eternal  Christ — "the  Word  which 
was  from  the  beginning,"  who  is  also  the  "reason  of  God"  at  the 
end  of  all  things.  In  this  lies  the  important  contribution  to 
Christian  theology  which,  as  has  been  confessed  by  the  most 
influential  devotees  of  dogma,  such  poems  as  "Christmas  Eve 
and  Easter  Day,"  and  "A  Death  in  llic  Desert,"  have  made  in 
our  time.  In  all  these  j>oems,  there  is  a  witness  to  the  fact  that 
the  new  faith  in  Christ's  ])ower  and  work  is  an  evohition  out  of 
the  older.      Even  Milton  hinted  at  a  faith  that  evil 

"  .ShaJI  (III  its  back  recoil 
And  mix  no  more  with  goodness." 

Dante  himself,  at  an  earlier  j)eriod,  had  suggested  such  a  jMcturc 
of  Christ  as  made  Milton's  achievement  in  |)oetry  and  faith  pos- 
sible to  his  hand.  .Xnd,  earlier  still.  X'iigil,  thi-  master  of  the 
I*"lorentine,    in    that    poitrx     which,    hifore     the    historic    Christ, 


CHRIST  IN  POETRY.  5  I  5 

anticipated  the  presence  of  the  real  Christ,  had  sung  so  deeply 
that  Dante  acknowledged  him  as  master  after  thirteen  centuries 
had  slipped  away.      He  refers  to  Virgil  as  he  sings  : 

"  The  season  comes  once  more, 
Once  more  come  Justice  and  man's  primal  time. 
And  out  of  heavenly  space  a  new-born  race 
A  poet  by  thy  grace  and  thus  a  Christian  too." 

It  is  this  intimate  acquaintance  which  he  has  with  the  real  needs 
of  man,  deeper  than  any  utterance  of  the  time  of  Virgil,  Dante, 
or  Milton,  that  gives  Browning  such  a  relationship  with  the  dom- 
inant harmony  that  works  through  the  discords  of  all  times, —  a 
harmony  uttered  completely  only  in  Christ.  In  the  three  last 
mentioned  poems  from  his  muse,  nothing  is  lost  because  he  has 
in  mind  a  Strauss,  a  Darwin,  or  a  Renan,  or  even  some  stagger- 
ing superstition,  puerile  in  its  second  childhood, —  each  of  these 
is  a  force  in  our  troubled  age.  He  simply  places  all  these 
beneath  the  throne  of  Christ  and  makes  them  bow  before  the 
manger-cradle.  Life  is  evermore  the  "chance  o'  the  prize  of 
learning  love,"  and  it  is  our  noblest  possibility 

"To  joint 
This  flexile,  finite  life  once  tight 
Into  the  fixed  and  infinite." 

Where  is    this   infinite,   or  where  is  this  finite  jointed  thus? 
How  shall  he  learn  to  love?     The  answer  is  given  in  Christ. 

Helpful  was  the  light, 
And  warmth  was  cherishing  and  food  was  choice 
To  every  man's  flesh,  thousand  years  ago, 
As  now  to  yours  and  mine  ;  the  body  sprang 
At  once  to  the  height,  and  stayed  :  but  the  soul, —  no ! 
Since  sages  who,  this  noontide,  meditate 
In  Rome  or  Athens,  may  descry  some  point 
Of  the  eternal  power,  hid  yestereve  ; 
And,  as  thereby  the  power's  whole  mass  extends. 
So  much  extends  the  aether  floating  o'er 
The  love  that  tops  the  might,  the  Christ  in  God. 

It  is  this  Christ   in  the  song  of  universal  being  \yhich  makes 
the  poet's   rhyme,  in  which   over  all  and  in  all   and  above  all   is 


5  1 6  THE  BIB  Lie  A  L   1 1  'ORLD. 

revealed  God  in  Christ,  so  that  we  see   Him  even   on  the  unsub- 
stantial glory  of  nature  itself. 

Another  rainbow  rose,  a  mightier, 
Fainter,  flushier,  and  flightier, 
Rapture  dying  along  its  verge  ! 
Oh,  whose  foot  shall  I  see  emerge, 
WnosK,  from  the  straining  topmost  dark, 
On  to  the  keystone  of  that  arc? 


He  was  there. 

He  himself  with  his  human  air. 


Ebe  Sontj  of  nDaii>. 

/1C>\2  soul  &otb  maiinifv}  tbc  TLorD 

HnD  m\2  epirit  batb  rcjotccD  in  Q>^^  mv?  Saviour; 
yor  Ibc  batb  rc0ar^cD  tbc  low  estate  of  Ibis  ban^matJ>;;  - 

ifor,  bcbolD,  from  bencefortb  all  iicncratious  sball  call 
me  blessc5. 
jfor  Ibc  tbat  is  micibtx}  batb  Oone  ereat  tbincis  for  me 

HnD  Ibolv?  is  Ibis  IRamc. 
2ln&  Ibis  mcrcx}  is  unto  cicnerations  anJ)  generations 

Of  tbcm  tbat  feau  Ibim. 

Ibe  batb  sbown  strencitb  witb  Ibis  arm, 

1bc  batb  scattereD  tbe  prouO  bg  tbe  imagination  of 
tbcir  bearts, 

1be  batb  put  Down  princes  from  tbcir  tbroncs 
BnD  batb  cvaltcD  tbcm  of  low  Dciircc! 

1f.-)c  batb  fillcD  tbc  bungrv  witb  iiooC>  tbincis 
"HnD  tbc  ricb  batb  II-ic  sent  empt?  awav?! 

Ibc  batb  bolpcn  Ibis  servant  llsrael 
Chat  U^c  miiibt  remember  mercv 
Os  Ibc  spohc  unto  our  Jfatbers) 

CowarDs  ilbrabam  anC*  bis  secO  forever. 


H 

I 
ID 

5 


CHRIST    IN    HISTORY. 


Bv   PKiNcirAi.   A.    M.    Faikhaikn, 
Mansfield  College,  Oxford. 


General  characteristics  of  Christ's  place  in  history  —  Supremacy  of  the 
man  over  the  Jew  —  Brotherhood  of  man  his  gift — A  moralizer  and  hionan- 
izer  of  religion —  The  maker  of  moral  vien  and  the  elevator  of  society. 

Two  things  are  characteristic  of  Christ's  appearance  in 
history  ;  first,  the  limited  and  local  conditions  under  which  he 
lived,  secondly,  the  universal  ranges  and  jicnetrative  energy  of 
his  posthumous  influence  and  action.  There  are  founders  or 
reformers  of  religion  whose  influence  has  endured  longer  than 
his,  for  thev  lived  before  him  ;  but  there  is  no  one  who  has  been 
in  the  same  quality  or  degree  a  permanent  factor  of  historical 
change.  The  philosopher  that  is  wise  after  the  event  may  love 
to  discover  the  causes  or  exhibit  the  process  by  which  he  passed 
from  the  mean  stage  on  which  he  lived  for  three  brief  and 
troubled  years,  to  the  commanding  position  from  which  he  has, 
for  nineteen  centuries,  not  only  reigned  over,  but  absolutelv 
governed  ci\ilizcd  man.  But  one  thing  is  certain,  neither  the 
science  which  thinks  it  can  exj)lore  the  future  nor  the  statesman- 
ship which  believes  it  can  control  tlic  present  could  ii.ue  before- 
hand divined  or  predicted  the  result.  His  life  throughout  its 
whole  course  was  void  of  those  circumstances  that  appeal  to  the 
normal  imagination,  and,  without  any  doubt,  his  sudden  passage 
from  an  (jbscure  life  amid  an  obscure  j)e<jple  to  the  suj)reme 
place  in  history,  is  the  most  dramatic  moment  in  the  e.x[)erience 
of  collective  man.  If  history  be  a  drama,  then  he  is  the  hero  of 
the  drama,  who  stamps  it  with  its  character,  exhibits  and  unfolds 
its  tragic  j)r(jblem,  the  person  for  whom  it  was  written,  through 
whom  it  moves,  in  whom  it  has  its  end.  It  is  imj)ossil)le  that 
any  philosojthy  which  seeks  to  explain  history  can  regard  him 
as  an  accident;  it  is  e\en  more  impossibU- thai  the  science  whicli 
seeks  the  reason  of  e\'cnts  should  find  the  cause  of  his  i>r(.eminenfe 

5'8 


CHRIS  T  IN  HIS  TOR  V.  5  1 9 

in  the  hard  and  narrow  racial  conditions  under  which  he  was 
formed  and  within  which  he  lived. 

But  our  special  concern  is  not  with  the  emergence  of  the 
most  universal  person  out  of  the  most  parochial  conditions,  it  is 
rather  with  the  modes  and  results  of  his  historical  action.  These 
were  retrospective  as  well  as  prospective,  for  his  characteristic 
power  of  universalizing  whatever  he  touched  is  illustrated  by  the 
respects  in  which  he  is  distinguished  from  his  own  people.  He 
was  by  blood  and  inheritance  a  Jew ;  all  that  the  past  brought  to 
his  race  it  brought  to  him,  all  that  it  brought  to  him  it  might 
have  brought  to  his  race.  But  the  two  cases  are  very  different. 
In  the  hands  of  the  Jew  the  whole  inheritance  remained  racial, 
the  book,  the  worship,  the  religion,  the  deity.  The  race  with  its 
beliefs  and  customs  and  legislation  is  the  most  wonderful 
example  in  history  of  distribution  without  absorption,  of  separate 
existence  combined  with  universal  diffusion,  a  people  whose 
racial  unity  and  continuit}'  have  been  secured  and  perpetuated 
by  their  extinction  as  a  nation.  The  most  broken  and  scattered, 
they  are  yet  the  most  united  and  exclusive  of  peoples,  with  all 
their  historical  possessions  their  own  rather  than  man's.  But 
where  they  have  specialized  Jesus  generalized  ;  what  he  retained  of 
the  Hebrew  inheritance  became  through  him  man's,  and  ceased 
to  be  the  Jew's.  The  Old  Testament  read  through  the  New  is 
not  the  book  of  a  tribe  but  of  humanity.  The  idea  of  a  people 
of  God  translated  by  the  term  church  becomes  a  society  coexten- 
sive with  man.  Jehovah,  seen  through  the  consciousness  of  the 
Son,  is  changed  from  the  God  of  the  Jews  only  into  the  God  and 
Father  of  mankind.  In  a  word,  he  transformed  his  historical 
inheritance,  universalized  it,  breathed  into  it  a  spirit  that  made 
it  independent  of  place  and  time  and  special  people,  ambitious 
only  of  being  comprehended  by  all  that  under  it  all  might  be 
comprehended. 

This  power  to  universalize  what  he  inherited  expresses  an 
intrinsic  quality  of  his  personality  ;  it  is  as  it  were,  in  spite  of  the 
strongly  marked  local  and  temporal  conditions  under  which  it 
was  historically  realized,  without  the  customary  notes  of  time 
and  place.      He   became    through    the    reality  he  was  an  ideal  to 


520  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

to  the  world,  conceiv^ed  not  according  to  birth  or  descent  but 
rather  according  to  nature  and  kind.  He  impersonated  man, 
and  because  of  him  man  ai)j)eared  to  the  imagination  as  at  once 
a  unity  and  an  indi\idualitv.  These  are  now  among  our  most 
formal  and  even  conventional  ideas,  but  thev  can  hardly  be  said 
to  be  ideas  the  ancient  world  knew.  In  it  nationality  was  too 
intensclv  realized  to  allow  unitv  to  h^  concei\'ed.  Each  people 
was  to  itself  a  divine  creation,  the  offspring  of  its  own  gods, 
guarded  by  them,  alone  able  to  worship  them,  the  gods  as  acutely 
separated  from  the  gods  of  other  peoples  as  the  peoples  from 
each  other.  And  as  there  was  no  unity  there  could  be  no  affin- 
itv  ;  where  there  was  no  community  of  nature  there  could  be  no 
common  mind  or  bond  of  brotherhood.  As  the  absence  of  the 
sense  of  unitv  affected  the  outer  relations  of  peoples,  so  the 
want  of  the  idea  of  individuality  affected  the  inner  life  of 
societies.  It  meant  that  there  was  no  sufificient  notion  of  the 
value  or  worth  of  man.  Hence  in  the  Oriental  monarchies  the 
dumb  millions  were  but  instruments  of  the  so\ereign  will,  to  be 
sacrificed  without  scruple,  as  beings  with  no  rights  or  hopes, 
whether  in  building  a  royal  tomb  or  buttressing  a  tyrant's  throne. 
Even  in  states  where  the  idea  of  liberty  was  clearest  and  most 
emphasized,  it  was  liberty  not  of  men  but  of  special  men,  mem- 
bers of  a  class  or  a  clan,  Greeks  or  Romans.  Freedom  was  their 
inalienable  right,  but  it  was  necessarily  denied  to  Helots  or  to 
slaves.  Thus,  without  the  sense  of  human  in(li\i(lualil\-,  there 
could  be  no  rational  order  in  society,  and  without  the  feeling  of 
unity  no  orderly  progress  in  the  race.-  But  from  the  conce[)tion 
of  Christ's  person  the  true  ideas  sprang  into  immediate  and  potent 
being,  though,  as  was  natural,  the  lower  idea  of  unity  was  active 
and  efficient  before  the  harder  and  higher  idea  of  liberty.  The 
belief  in  a  person  wlio  was  equally  related  to  all  men  involved 
the  notion  that  the  men  wlio  were  so  relateil  to  him  were  ec|ually 
related  to  each  other,  and  the  conception  that  he  had  died  to 
redeem  all,  make  all  appear  of  equal  value  in  his  sight  and  of 
equal  worth  before  God,  who  indeed  as  the  God  of  Jesus  Christ 
could  know  no  resj)ect  of  person.  For  in  Christ  there  was 
neither  lew  nor  Greek,    bond    nor    free,    but    only   one   luw  man. 


CHRIS  T  IN  HIS  TOR  V.  521 

And  what  has  been  the  historical  action  of  these  ideas  ?  They 
have  set  an  ideal  before  the  race  which  it  feels  bound  to  realize, 
though  it  may  step  with  slow  and  labored  reluctance  along  the 
path  of  realization.  The  pity  for  the  suffering  which  has  created 
all  our  hospitals  and  agencies  for  relief,  the  love  of  the  poor 
which  seeks  to  ameliorate  their  lot  and  end  poverty,  the  sense 
of  human  dignity  which  hates  all  that  degrades  man,  the  pas- 
sion for  freedom  which  inspires  whole  societies  and  abhors  the 
privileges  and  prerogatives  of  special  castes,  the  equality  of  all 
men  before  the  law  which  makes  justice  copy  the  impartiality  of 
God  —  these  and  similar  things  are  the  direct  creations  of  the 
Christian  idea  of  Christ.  Though  they  have  not  as  yet  been 
fully  realized,  still  they  have  been  conceived;  they  are  ends 
towards  which  history  in  its  broken  way  has  moved,  and  dreams 
which  society  feels  it  can  never  be  happy  till  it  has  embodied. 
And  what  do  these  things  represent  but  the  most  potent  factors 
of  all  its  order  and  all  its  progress  which  history  knows  ? 

Connected  with  this  is  the  degree  in  which  he  has  at  once 
moralized  and  humanized  religion.  It  was  on  the  side  of  moral- 
ity that  the  ancient  religions  were  most  defective  and  inefficient. 
The  gods  were  too  self-indulgent  to  be  severe  on  the  frailties  of 
man.  Indeed  no  polytheism  can  be  in  the  strict  sense  moral, 
for  where  the  divine  wills  are  many,  how  can  they  form  a 
sovereign  unity  ?  And  so  jwhile  there  may  be  worship,  there 
can  never  be  obedience  as  to  a  single  and  absolute  and  uniform 
law.  As  a  consequence  philosophy  rather  than  religion  was 
in  the  ancient  world  the  school  of  morals,  and  its  morality, 
though  exalted  in  term  was  impotent  in  motives,  a  theme  of 
speculation  or  discussion  rather  than  a  law  for  life.  And  we 
have  further  this  remarkable  fact  that  in  the  interests  of  morality 
philosophers  in  their  ideal  state  or  normal  society  restricted  the 
area  of  religion  as  regards  both  belief  and  conduct.  Two 
ancient  religions  indeed  held  a  place  of  rare  ethical  distinction  — 
Hebraism  on  the  one  side.  Buddhism  on  the  other,  but  the  dis- 
tinction was  attended  by  characteristic  defects.  Hebrew  morality 
was  the  direct  creation  of  the  Hebrew  Deity.  Religion  was  obe- 
dience to  his  will,  and  his  will  was  absolute.     Men  became  accept- 


522  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD. 

able  in  his  sight  not  by  "  the  blood  of  bulls  and  goats  "  but  by  doing 
justly,  loving  mercv  and  walking  hunibh-  with  God.  But  this 
morality  was  too  purely  transcendental ;  in  it  man  stood  over 
against  the  Almightv  will  as  a  transient  creature,  and  will  as 
such  is  too  cognate  to  power  to  be  an  elevating  or  alwavs  benef- 
icent moral  law.  We  can  see  this  in  the  exaggeratt;d  echo  of 
Hebraism  which  we  know  as  Islam.  There  the  divine  will  that 
has  to  be  obeved  is  but  a  will  of  an  Almightv  Arab  chief  who 
delights  in  battle,  who  glories  in  victory,  whose  rewards  are  for 
complete  devotion  to  his  service  and  his  commands.  Neither 
religion  jjroduces  a  reallv  humane  svstem  of  ethics,  nor  is  such 
a  svstem  consistent  with  a  |nire  transcendental  deism.  On 
the  other  hand  Buddhism  is  strictly  human  alike  in  ethical 
standard  and  motive.  Buddha  is  the  ideal  man  and  right  con- 
duct is  the  behavior  that  pleases  him.  He  is  pitiful  and  so  pity 
of  human  miserv  is  the  note  of  the  good  man.  But  simply 
because  there  is  no  transcendental  source  or  motive  the  ethics  of 
Buddhism  are  pessimistic.  Thev  are  possessed  with  the  j)assion 
of  pitv,  not  w  ith  the  love  of  salvation  or  the  belief  in  the  good 
of  existence  that  binds  a  man  to  do  his  utmost  to  save  men  and 
ameliorate  their  lot.  Now  Christ  represents  the  transcendental 
ethics  of  Hebraism  and  inmianent  ethics  of  Buddhism  in  potent 
union  and  harmonious  efficiencv.  The  man  he  lo\es  is  a  man 
made  of  God,  worthy  of  his  love,  and  ca])able  of  his  sahation. 
The  God  he  reveals  is  one  manifested  in  man,  glorified  by  his 
obedience  and  satisfied  with  nothing  less  than  his  holiness  ;  thus 
while  the  glory  of  God  is  the  good  of  man,  the  chief  end  of  man 
is  the  glorv  of  God.  In  a  word  the  ethics  of  Christ  have  more 
humanitv  than  Ikiddha's,  more  divinitv  than  the  Hebrew.  Thev 
have  so  combined  these  as  to  make  tjf  the  service  of  man  and  the 
obedience  of  God  a  unit\-.  This  has  made  the  religion  an 
altogether  uni()ue  power  in  history,  has  turned  all  its  motives 
into  moral  forces  which  have  worked  for  amelioration  and  j>rog- 
ress  of  the-  human  race. 

This  last  |)oint  may  be  illustrated  by  the  number  and  the 
variety  of  the  moral  men  Christ  has  created.  His  church  is  a 
society  of  such  men.      It  is  scattered   throughout   the  world,  and 


CHRIS  T  IN  HIS  TOR  V.  523 

wherever  it  is,  there  live  persons  pledged  to  work  for  human 
good.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  overestimate  the  worth  of  a 
good  man  to  an  age  or  a  place.  He  who  creates  most  good  men 
most  increases  the  sum  of  human  weal.  And  here  Christ  holds 
undisputed  preeminence.  There  is  to  me  nothing  so  marvelous 
as  his  power  to  awaken  the  enthusiasm  of  humanity.  Organiza- 
tion may  have  done  great  things  for  ecclesiastics,  but  the 
supreme  things  accomplished  in  the  history  of  Christendom  have 
have  been  performed  by  souls  Christ  has  kindled  and  com- 
manded. The  church  did  not  strengthen  Athanasius  to  stand 
against  the  world  ;  Christ  did.  What  comforted  Augustine  was 
not  the  policy  of  the  Eternal  Citv,  but  the  sublime  beauty  of 
the  Universal  Christ.  Francis  of  Assisi  was  vanquished  by  his 
love,  and  all  our  early  martyrs  and  saints,  all  our  mediaeval  mystics 
and  schoolmen  bear  witness  to  it,  while  the  devotional  literature 
of  the  church,  its  prayers,  its  hymns,  the  books  that  live  because 
alive  with  love  attest  the  preeminence  and  the  permanence  of 
personal  devotion  to  Christ.  In  keeping  a  continuous  stream  of 
holy  and  beneficent  men  in  the  world  he  has  affected  the  course 
of  history,  the  movements  of  thought,  all  the  ideals  and  all  the 
aims  of  man.  His  name  is  thus  a  term  denotive  of  the  richest 
moral  forces  that  have  acted  upon  the  lives  of  men.  If  we  can- 
not love  him  without  loving  the  race  or  serve  him  without  being 
forced  to  the  beneficent  service  of  man,  then  his  place  in  his- 
tory is  that  of  the  most  constant  factor  of  order,  the  cause  of 
progress  and  the  principle  of  unity.  In  all  things  he  has  the  pre- 
eminence ;  in  him  has  been  manifested  the  manifold  wisdom  of 
God.  Over  hearts  and  lives  he  reigns  that  he  may  in  the  ways 
of  infinite  grace  subdue  all  things  unto  himself. 


HELPS  TO  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  CHRIST. 


By   S  H  A I  L  E  R    Mathews. 
The  University  of  Chicago. 


The  last  few  years  have  witnessed  an  extraorclinai\-  re\i\al 
in  the  historical  study  of  the  New  Testament.  Since  the  days 
of  the  fierce  attacks  upon  current  religious  beliefs  by  the 
so-called  Tubingen  school,  there  has  been  a  steady  advance  in 
both  the  amount  and  the  character  (jf  investigation  given  to  the 
times  during  which  Jesus  lix'cd,  and  the  records  that  describe  his 
words  and  deeds.  Manv  of  these  works  ha\'e  been  outgrown  or 
superseded  b\-  later  studies,  i)ut  each  has  contributed  something 
towards  a  completer  knowledge  of  the  times  and  the  country, 
the  social  environment,  and  the  course  of  thought  in  which  Jesus 
and  his  biographers  lixed. 

In  the  list  below  only  such  works  are  mentioned  as  both 
embody  the  results  of  recent  scholarship  and  are  believed  to  be 
especial Iv  adaj)ted  to  the  use  of  pastors  and  unprofessional  stu- 
dents of  the  New  Testament.  It  does  not  include  works  of 
purely  historical  or  technical  interest,  or  those  written  in  a  foreign 
language. 

I.  The  Times  of  Christ. 

The  chief  literary  source  of  all  works  under  this  head  is 
Josephus,  whose  histories,  the  Antiguitics  of  the  Jews,  the  Wt7rs  of 
the  Jews,  as  well  as  his  other  writings,  contain  about  all  that  is  to 
be  known  of  this  prriod  within  tlu-  limits  of  raKstiiie,  except 
what  mav  be  derived  from  the  stuily  of  arch;eolog\'.  The 
arrangement  of  much  of  his  material  is,  howe\er,  not  the  best, 
and  on  many  other  grounds  it  is  advisable  to  sui)plenKnt  his 
account  with  the  work  of  sonu-  modern  writer. 


HELPS  TO  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  CHRIST.       525 

Fairweather,  Wm.,  From  tJie  Exile  to  the  Advent.      (In  the  series 

of    Handbooks    for   Bible    Classes.)      Edinburgh  :    T.   &  T. 

Clark.       New    York:      Chas.    Scribner's    Sons.       Pp.    210. 

Price,  80  cents. 

An  admirable  little  text-book,  giving  succinctly  an  account  of  the  Jewish 

people  from  the  deportation  under  Nebuchadnezzar  till  the  death  of  Herod  I. 

Few  references  are  given  to  other  works,  but  the  author  has  evidently  read 

the  most  recent  authorities. 

Waddy-Moss,  R.,  From  Malachi  to  Matthew.  London  :  Charles 
H.  Kelly.  Pp.  xiv.  256. 
This  little  handbook  attempts  "to  do  nothing  more  than  outline  the 
history  of  Judea  in  the  centuries  that  elapsed  between  the  prophecy  of 
Malachi  and  the  event  that  forms  the  first  theme  of  the  New  Testament." 
The  author  has  rigidly  kept  to  this  aim,  refusing  to  be  led  off  into  details, 
and,  on  the  whole,  has  maintained  a  very  good  historical  perspective.  The 
treatment  of  the  Maccabean  period  is  especially  good.  It  is  not  thrown  into 
the  form  of  a  text-book,  and  its  style  is  good.  It  unfortunately  is  not  sup- 
plied with  a  bibliography. 

SchOrer,  E.,  TJie  Jczvish  People  in  the  Time  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Division  I.  The  Political  History  of  Palestine,  from  B.  C. 
175  to  135  A.  D.  2  vols.  Division  H.  The  Internal  Con- 
dition of  Palestine  and  of  the  Jewish  Peo]:)le  in  the  Time 
of  Jesus  Christ.  3  vols.  New  York  :  Chas.  Scribner's 
Sons.      Price,  ^8.00,  net. 

This  monumental  work  by  Schlirer  has  made  all  other  histories  almost 
superfluous.  In  no  other  account  of  the  jjeriod  is  there  to  be  found  such 
wealth  of  learning  and  such  admirable  arrangement  of  material.  Its  use  of 
sources  is  exhaustive,  and  the  work  everywhere  displays  astonishing  power 
in  grappling  with  perplexities.  Each  section  is  preceded  by  a  full  bibli- 
ography, and  all  statements  are  substantiated  by  reference  to  authorities. 
In  the  first  division  of  the  work  the  author  has  given  solutions  to  many  geo- 
graphical and  chronological  problems,  besides  compressing  into  reasonable 
space  the  account  of  the  events  of  the  period.  The  second  division  is 
especially  concerned  with  the  civil  and  religious  institutions  of  the  Jews,  as 
well  as  the  literature  of  the  two  centuries  which  the  work  covers.  Especial 
attention  is  also  given  to  rabbinism  in  its  bearing  upon  the  New  Testament. 
No  attempt  is  made  at  describing  the  social  life  of  the  times.  In  certain 
cases,  perhaps,  Schiirer  has  a  little  too  readily  yielded  to  certain  chronolog- 
-ical  difficulties  of  the  gospel  record,  but  in  general  his  attitude  is  remarkably 
impartial,  and  at  times  in  effect,  if  not  in  purpose,  apologetic. 


526  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLL^. 

Stapff.k.  E.,  Palestine  in  the  Time  of  Christ.  New  York  :  A.  C. 
Armstrong  &  Son.      Pp.  xii.  527.      Price,  S2.50. 

This  work  is  a  most  exasperating  combination  of  fact  and  fiction.  It 
needs  severe  revision.  Yet,  on  the  whole,  it  is  about  the  only  single  volume 
in  English  which  gives  anything  like  a  respectable  account  of  the  entire 
life- — ^ political,  social,  religious  —  of  the  Jewish  people  in  the  days  of  Jesus. 
Many  of  its  errors  are  those  of  carelessness,  and  sometimes  are  so  ludicrous 
as  to  be  detected  bv  any  attentive  reader.  Its  use  of  the  Talmud  is  consid- 
erable, although  uncritical. 

Seidel,  M.,  ///  the  Ti)ne  of  Jesus.  New  York  :  A.  D.  V .  Ran- 
dolph &  Co.      Pp.  188.  xx\-.      Price,  75  cents. 

Probablv  the  best  account  in  small  compass  of  the  heathen  and  Jewish 
world  in  New  Testament  times.  It  is  especially  good  in  its  descriptions  of 
the  political  and  religious  institutions  of  the  Jews. 

Edersheim,  a.,  Sketehes  of  JeicisJi  Soeial  Life.  Chicago:  F.  H. 
Revell  &  Co.      Price,  Si. 25 

A  popular,  though  scholarlv  little  work,  descriptive  of  the  habits  and 
customs  of  the  Jewish  peojjle  in  New  Testament  times. 

Merrill,  .S.,  Galilee  in  the  Time  of  Christ.  New  York  :  W'hitta- 
ker,  1885.      Price,  Si. 00. 

A  lielpful  little  volume  of  especial  value  from  the  personal  investigations 
of  the  author.  The  general  conclusion  is  favorable  to  the  statements  of 
Josephus  in  regard  to  Galilee  in  the  first  century. 

Delitzsch,  v.,  Jewish  Artisan  Life  in  the  'Ti?ne  of  Jesus.  New 
York:    P\ink  &  Wagnalls.      Pp.  91.      Price.  75  cents. 

Tliis  little  volume  contains  a  great  amount  of  intorniation  in  regard  to 
the  industrial  life  of  the  common  peo])ic  in  tht.'  time  of  Christ,  and  is  written 
in  an  interesting  style. 

II.  The  Geography  of  Palestine. 

Hlndmkson,  a.,  Palestine.  (in  tiic  series  ol  I  lamlhooks  tor 
Bible  Classes.)  Edinburgh  :  T.  6y:  T.  Clark.  New  N'ork  : 
Chas.  Scribner's  Sons.       Price.-,  Si. 00. 

An  admiral)le  liandbook,  well  up  to  d.-itc  .hkI  L'fnci;illy  accurate,  l)oth 
in  description  and  maps. 


HELPS  TO  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  CHRIST.       527 

Smith,  George  A.  The  Historical  Geography  of  the  Holy  Land. 
London :  Hoddu  &  Stoughton.  New  York :  A.  C.  Arm- 
strong &  Son.     Second  ed.,    1895.     Pp-  ^xv.  692.     Price, 

An  exceedingly  stimulating  volume.  Not  only  is  it  a  thesaurus  of  the 
best  results  of  modern  exploration  in  Palestine,  but,  as  in  no  other  volume, 
is  the  history  of  the  land  interpreted  by  its  physical  characteristics.  Especial 
commendation  should  be  given  its  maps.  To  read  this  volume  is  the  next 
best  thing  to  a  visit  to  Palestine.'  Its  literary  style  is  attractive  although 
somewhat  diffuse. 

Stanley,  A.  P.,  Sinai  a?id  Palestitie.  New  York  :  A.  C.  Arm- 
strong &  Son.      Pp.  641.      Price,  $2.50. 

This  classic  in  scriptural  geography  is  by  no  means  superseded  by  the 
work  of  Smith.  In  its  descriptive  and  suggestive  power  it  still  is  among  the 
best  modern  works  that  attempt  to  show  the  relation  between  a  people's 
history  and  their  physical  environment.  In  general,  also,  its  identifications 
are  accurate  and  its  maps  and  colored  plates  helpful. 

III.  The  Life  of  Jesus. 

Stalker,  J.,  The  Life  of  Jesus  Christ.  Various  editions.  Pp.  167. 
Price,  60  cents. 

A  scholarly,  and  in  every  way  delightful  work.  It  is  especially  adapted 
to  use  in  bible  classes. 

Farrar,  F.  W.,  The  Life  of  Christ.  New  York  :  E.  P.  Button  & 
Co.      Pp.  XV.  472. 

Full  of  fervid  rhetoric  and  deep  religious  feeling.  It  is  characterized  by 
the  author's  generous  scholarship  and  liberality.  It  is  of  especial  value  in 
helping  the  student  to  realize  keenly  the  circumstances  of  his  Lord's  life. 

Andrews,  S.  J.,  The  Life  of  Our  Lord.  New  York:  Chas. 
Scribner's  Sons,  1891.      Pp.  xxvii.  651.      Price,  $2.50. 

Altogether  the  opposite  of  the  preceding  in  its  avoidance  of  all  literary 
effort.  As  a  result  it  is  not  easily  readable,  but  is  of  the  utmost  value  because 
of  its  exhaustive  essays  upon  harmony,  chronology,  and  geography.  By  all 
means  it  is  the  most  scholarly  production  along  these  lines  of  any  American, 
scholar.     No  student  of  the  gospels  will  neglect  it. 

'  A  review  of  this  work  will  be  found  in  the  coming  January  number  of  the 
Biblical  World. 


528  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

Edersheim,  a.,  The  Life  atui  Times  of  Jesus  the  Messiah.  New 
York  :  A.  D.  F.  Randolph  &  Co.  2  vols.  Pp.  x.xvi.  698; 
xii.  826.      Price,  $6. 00. 

This  is  the  most  exhaustive  study  on  the  times  of  Jesus  thus  far  jjroduced 
by  an  English  scholar.  Its  chief  defects  are  the  absence  of  any  critical 
examination  of  the  sources,  occasionally  poor  e.vegesis  as  well  as  poor  har- 
mony, and  an  excessive  pietism.  But  the  merits  of  the  work  outweigh  these 
defects.  Viewed  as  a  series  of  essays  upon  the  customs  and  habits  of  thought 
suggested  by  the  life  of  Jesus  it  is  masterly  and  invaluable.  If  one  were  to 
own  but  one  life  of  Jesus,  it  should  be  Edersheim's. 

Weiss,  B.,  The  Life  of  Christ.  Eng.  trans.  Edinburgh:  T.  &  T. 
Clark.  3  vols.  Pjj.  xvi.  392,  403,  428.  New  York : 
Chas.  Scribner's  .Sons.      Price,  $9.00. 

Especially  valuable  for  critical  examination  of  the  sources  and  deep 
spiritual  insight.  Though  not  so  versed  in  rabbinical  learning  as  Edersheim, 
Weiss  is  one  of  the  greatest  critics  and  exegetes.  No  one  can  be  in  touch 
with  modern  methods  in  the  study  of  the  gospels  who  is  unacquainted  with 
his  critical  position,  however  one  may  accept  some  of  its  applications  and 
corollaries.  There  is  great  need  of  a  life  of  Christ  that  shall  combine  the 
critical  processes  of  Weiss  and  the  Jewish  learning  of  Edersheim  with  the 
literary  excellencies  of  Stalker. 

IV.  The  Teaching  of  Jesus. 

Bruce,   A.  B.,    The  Kingdo)n  of  God.       New  York:   Chas.   Scrib- 
ner's Sons.      Pp.  XV.  343.      Price,  $2.00. 
As  satisfactory  a  treatment  of  the  central  teachings  of  Jesus  as  exists. 
Like  all  of  the  author's  works  it  is   characterized   by  critical   processes  and 
deep  religious  reverence  and  insight. 

IIoKTON,    Robert   P\,  TJic  TcncJiitig  of  Jesus.      London:    Isbistu, 
1895.      ^'P-  '^■i'i-  287.      Price,  3s.  6d. 
Dr.  Horton  tells  us  frankly  that  his  lectures  are  based  on  Wcndl's  Ihid/Wi^ 
of  Jrsus,  and   Beyschlag's  New  Testatnent  Theology,  with  an  effort  to  su|ii)iy 

that  which  is  found  lacking  in  them And  now  our  recommendation  is, 

that  if  anyone  has  set  to  read  these  books,  he  should  read  Dr.  Horton's  first. — 
Expository  Times. 

Wendt,    II.     II.,    The    Teaching    of  Jesus.       New    \'ork  :      Chas. 
Scribner's  S(M1s.      2  vols.      Pp.  40.S,  427.      Price,  S4.50. 
An  admirable  translation  of  the  greatest  systematic  study  of  the  teachings 
of  Jesus  thus  f;ir  |)rmlucfd  in  C'.crmany.      It  is  marked  by  all  the  excellencies  of 


HELPS  TO  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  CHRIST.       529 

German  scholarship,  but  is  free  from  most  of  its  faults.  It  is  characterized  by 
conservative  exegesis,  acute  analysis  of  the  gospel  records,  and  reverent  regard 
for  truth.  It  goes  far  more  into  details  than  the  work  of  Bruce,  and  it  exhibits 
more  completely  the  processes  by  which  its  results  are  gained.  Its  greatest 
defects  are  seen  in  its  treatment  of  the  Johannine  account  of  Christ's  teach- 
ings. 

Fairbairn,  a.  M.,  TJic  Place  of  Christ  i/i  Modern  Theology. 

"That  mine  of  learning,  masterly  historical  generalization,  and  rich  sug- 
gestion has  given  new  strength  to  the  Christian  consciousness  throughout  the 
English-speaking  world  ;  and  the  longer  it  is  read  the  more  generation  of 
ideas  it  will  be  found  to  be." — George  A.  Gordon,  in  CJirist  of  Today,  p.  vi. 

Beyschlag,  W.,  The  Theology  of  the  New  Testament. 

A  review  of  this  great  treatise,  so  far  as  it  is  concerned  with  the  teaching 
of  Jesus,  is  found  on  another  page. 


THE  HALL  OF  THE  CHRIST  AT  CHAUTAUQUA. 


By  Bishop  John  1 1.  V  i  n  c  e  n  t. 
Cliautauqua  Office,  Buffalo,  N.  V. 


The  central  thought  of  Christianity  in  this  age  is  Christ  — 
his  person,  his  life,  his  teaching,  the  sj^iritual  dispensation  which 
he  founded.  It  has  not  always  been  so.  Men  ha\c  exalted 
doctrine,  |)hilosophv,  sacraments,  ceremonies,  j)riesthoods,  eccle- 
siastical constitutions  —  everything  but  Christ  himself.  Men 
who  study  manhood  look  now  to  the  man  of  Galilee.  Men  who 
study  theology  seek  now  "sound  words,  even  the  words  of  the 
Lord  Jesus." 

The  critical  study  of  the  New  Testament  tends  to  exalt  its 
one  all-dominating  character.  And  this  is  well.  Men  who  can- 
not understand  philosophy  can  understand  biography.  When 
they  are  not  able  to  accept  the  systematic  creed-forms,  dogmat- 
ically taught  by  doctors  and  councils,  they  are  able  to  hear  the 
wise  sayings  of  the  One  who  walked  with  his  own  disci[)les 
over  the  hills  and  through  the  valleys  of  Palestine.  They  see 
him  on  the  human  side.  They  study  hini  in  the  light  of  ancient 
life.  He  is  a  man  again  —  a  teacher,  a  friend.  Aj^proaching 
him  from  the  human  side  they  are  prepared  for  the  deeper,  the 
loftier  revelations  of  the  spiritual  kingdom  for  the  manifesta- 
tion of  which  he  became  llesh  and  dwelt  among  us.  More  than 
ever  df)  the  scholars  turn  with  delight  and  enthusiasm  to  the 
study  of  this  "great  phenomenon."  More  than  ever  the  special- 
ists of  the  hiljlical  schools  turn  to  the  stu(l\-  of  the  Christ  as 
foreshadowetl  in  proj)hecv,  as  re\eale(l  in  liistorw  as  I'eported  in 
literature  and  glorified  in  art. 

At  Chaulau<|ua,  Christ  and  his  gospel  ha\e  C()nstitut(.-d  the 
center  of  all  teaching  from  the  lust  (la\-  until  the  j)resent,  and  it 
is  now  |jroposi'd  to  ])lant  in  the  center  of  the  Chautauijua 
grounds,  in  the  midst  ot  all  otiiei'  buildings  at  this  lural  uuixer- 
sity,  a  teni])le  especially  consecrated  to  the-  stu(l\-  of  his  liU-   and 

5.^0 


THE  HALL  OF  THE  CHRIST  A  T  CHA  UTA  UQUA.        531 

teachings,  his  relations  to  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  his  influence 
on  the  race  as  developed  in  successive  civilizations  and  the  great 
schools  of  thought  which  have  been  created  or  inspired  by  his 
presence  in  the  world. 

This  building  is  to  be  called  the  Hall  of  the  Christ.  It  is  to  be 
a  class  room  for  the  study  of  Christ  by  various  grades  of  pupils, 
from  the  little  children  for  whom  while  on  earth  he  showed  such 
delicate  fondness,  to  the  profoundest  scholars  who  may  meet  to 
investigate  the  problems  in  philosophy,  in  philology,  in  literature, 
in  art,  in  social  and  political  life  which  are  created  or  illuminated 
by  his  marvelous  personality  and  ministry.  The  building  is  to 
be  used  for  no  other  purpose  whatever  but  to  set  forth  the  one 
idea  —  the  germ  and  fruition  of  all  great  religious  ideas  —  The 
Christ.  Children  will  be  encouraged  to  take  a  simple  course  of 
reading  and  study  on  which  they  must  be  examined  before  their 
admission  as  students  in  the  Hall  of  the  Christ,  and  this  to 
create  a  greater  interest  on  their  part  and  to  emphasize  the  value 
of  the  opportunity  to  which  they  are  admitted. 

A  generous  philanthropist  who  is  famous  for  noble  gifts  and 
whose  name  will  in  due  time  be  announced  has  made  the  first 
contribution  of  ten  thousand  dollars  toward  this  project.  The 
Hall  of  the  Christ  will  occupy  one  of  the  most  central,  eligible 
and  beautiful  sites  on  the  Chautauqua  grounds.  The  building 
will  be  constructed  of  substantial  material,  and  will  be  the  most 
permanent  and  impressive  in  appearance  of  any  building  in  that 
city  by  the  lake,  so  solidly  constructed  that  it  may  last  for  cen- 
turies, and  capacious  enough  to  accommodate  on  special  occa- 
sions an  audience  of  at  least  five  hundred  students. 

A  room  will  be  set  apart  for  a  library  of  the  lives  of  Jesus 
and  for  a  selection  from  the  most  able  discussions  which  litera- 
ture furnishes  relating  to   his  person,  ofifice,  work  and   influence. 

Another  room  will  be  devoted  to  a  collection  of  the  best 
engravings  and  photographs  of  the  great  pictures  and  statues 
representing  Christ  —  the  contributions  of  the  great  artists  of  the 
ages  to  the  interpretation  of  his  personal  character.  It  is  hoped 
that  before  long  a  copy  of  Thorwaldsen's  famous  statue  of  Christ 
may  be  placed  within  the  building. 


532  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD. 

An  occasional  rcxcrcnt  and  beautiful  scr\icc  of  worship  to 
the  Christ  will  be  held,  with  all  that  music  and  devotional  litera- 
ture and  the  spontaneity  of  personal  j)iety  ma}-  contribute  to  this 
end. 

The  instruction  to  be  given  in  the  Hall  of  the  Christ  will  be 
of  the  most  thorough  character,  prosecuted  in  the  spirit  of  rev- 
erent love,  emploving  the  latest  results  of  the  most  critical 
stutl\',  that  students  looking  eagerlv  antl  discriniinateh'  into  the 
letter  of  the  four  gospels  may  come  more  fullv  and  more  heartily 
to  appreciate  him  who  spake  as  never  man  spake  and  whose 
name  to  this  day  is  above  every  name. 

The  Hall  standing  in  the  center  of  the  Chautauqua  grounds 
will  continually  represent  the  central  idea  of  Christianity  and 
exalt  him  who  was  in  his  earthly  life  the  Friend  of  the  friend- 
less, the  Saviour  of  the  sinful  and  whose  gos[jcl  and  sj)irit  are 
today  the  most  effective  jjromoters  of  true  social  and  political 
reform,  and  which  are  daily  building  uj)  a  civilization  founded 
upon  the  broad  doctrines  of  the  Fatherhood  of  God  and  the 
Brotherhood  of  Man. 

It  is  the  aim  of  the  projectors  to  make  the  building  j)lain 
but  impressive,  Grecian  rather  than  Gothic  in  stvle,  suggesting 
as  little  as  possible  the  "ecclesiastical"  and  emphasizing  the 
true  relation  between  Nazareth,  Jerusalem,  Rome  and  Athens, 
the  alliance  between  the  highest  attainable  human  culture  and 
the  holiest  jiersonal  character  that  e\er  shone  upon  earth,  in 
jnirsuance  of  the  thought  that  all  culture,  all  material  actixity, 
all  science,  all  philosojjhy,  all  literature,  all  art,  all  reform,  all 
hope  for  humanity  must  center  in  him. 

Another  feature  of  the  Hall  of  the  Christ  w  ill  be  the  j)r(-)\i- 
sion  of  memorial  windows  and  tablets  devoted  to  the  nieinor\-  of 
departed  friends— the  Chautau(|uans  of  all  the  years  since  its 
founding.  These  windows  designed  I)\'  a  skillful  artist  will 
conimein(;rate  the  various  events  in  the  lifi-  of  Christ  from  the 
Annunciation  to  tlu-  Ascensicjn. 

In  front  of  tlu-  Hall  it  is  expected  that  there  will  hv  a  por- 
tico, and  from  it  two  arms  or  semi-circular  porches  will  exleiid 
enclosing  a  space  in  which  now  and  tlun    a  large   audience   may 


THE  HALL   OF  THE  CHRIST  AT  CHAUTAUQUA. 


53; 


be  convened  to  listen  to  addresses  or  sermons.  These  architec- 
tural "arms"  will  represent  in  cenotaphs  and  statues  the  great 
characters  of  the  Old  Testament  by  which  the  Hebrew  people 
were  prepared  for  the  coming  of  the  Christ,  while  on  the  oppo- 
site side  shall  be  represented  in  similar  fashion  the  great  char- 
acters of  profane  history  who  were  in  their  times  a  light  unto 
the  world  and  a  preparation  for  the  coming  of  the  Man  of 
Nazareth. 

This  dream  of  a  building  will  certainly  become  a  substantial 
reality.  Shall  we  have  a  word  of  suggestion  concerning  details 
from  Chautauquans  and  others  interested  in  the  plan  ? 


IHL  CHRIST  CHILD. 

—MURILLO. 


synopses  of  important  Brticles, 


Jesus'  Teachings  about  Himself.  By  Rev.  James  Robertson,  D.D.,  in 
his  recent  book,  Our  Lord's  Teaching,  pp.  31-40. 

Jesus  presented  himself  as  a  problem  to  his  countrymen,  and  after  he  had 
been  manifested  to  them  for  a  sufficient  time,  the  testing  (juestions  he  put  to 
his  disciples  were  these:  "Whom  do  men  say  that  I  am?"  and  "Whom 
say  ye  that  I  am?  "  On  the  answer  to  this  latter  question  it  depended  whether 
Jesus  would  find  material  for  the  foundation  of  a  church  ;  and  when  Peter 
answered  well,  his  Master  accorded  him  solemn  praise  (Matt.  16: 16,  17).  In 
one  respect  there  was  great  reserve  in  his  teaching  about  himself.  Not  till 
near  the  end  of  his  ministry  (Matt.  16:  16,  17  ;  26:63,  64)  flifi  he  openly  avow 
himself,  or  allow  himself  to  be  declared  the  Messiah,  the  Christ.  Often 
before,  indeed,  the  consciousness  of  such  a  greatness  showed  itself  in  inci- 
dental sayings  (Matt.  7:22,  23;  12:42;  Luke  14:26;  John  6:35;  8:12; 
ii;25;  14:6).  But  he  long  withheld  from  the  Jews  the  plain  announcement 
that  he  was  the  Christ.  Obviously  he  did  so  because  this  title  had  been  so 
tarnished  and  carnalized  in  their  thoughts  that  he  would  have  been  quite  mis- 
understood, and  his  death  would  have  come  before  he  had  had  time  to  win 
true  disciples  by  his  life  and  teaching. 

Two  names  he  used,  the  one  with  equal  freedom  in  Judea  and  Galilee, 
The  Son  of  Man  ;  the  other,  mostly  in  his  debates  with  the  Jewish  leaders  at 
Jerusalem,  The  Son  of  God.  Both  of  these  were  —  so  far  as  meeting  the 
expectation  of  the  Jews  went  —  incognito  titles.  Jesus  took  neither  of  these 
names  from  the  Old  Testament  for  use,  because  it  was  an  understood  equiva- 
lent for  the  Messiah  ;  they  were  not  recognized  by  the  people  as  distinct  Mes- 
sianic titles.  They  came  from  his  own  heart,  the  expression  of  his  own  con- 
sciousness of  himself.  The  first  title,  the  Son  of  Man,  conveys  two  chief 
truths,  the  reality  of  the  humanity  of  Jesus,  and  the  uiii(]ueiiess  of  it.  He 
expresses  by  it  the  possession  of  true  human  nature,  his  comnmnity  of  feeling 
with  men,  his  sharing  in  human  affections  and  interests,  his  true  experience  of 
human  life,  his  liability  to  temptation,  his  exposure  like  other  men  to  hunger 
and  thirst,  suffering  and  death.  And  at  the  same  time  he  thus  described 
himself  as  the  uni(|ue  and  ideal  man,  the  man  in  whom  humanity  is  summed 
up,  and  the  "  fulness  of  the  race  made  visible,"  the  Head  and  Representative 
of  all  men.  The  second  title,  the  Son  of  God,  imi)lies  the  reality  of  his  son- 
ship,  and  the  unicjueness  of  it.  These  truths  Jesus  most  frccjuently  pressed 
upon  his  Jewish  op|)oiients  in  Jerusalem,  as  recorded  in  the  fourth  gosi)el, 
with  a  view  of  proving  himself  the  Son  by  laying  o|)en  to  them  his  actual  and 
constant  filial  intercourse  with  God,  in  the  beauty  and   perfect   naturalness  of 

534 


^  YNOPSES  OF  IMP  OR  TA  NT  A  R  TICLES.  535 

it  which  could  not  be  feigned.  There  is,  indeed,  in  much  that  Jesus  says 
about  his  intercourse  with  his  Father,  nothing  different  in  kind  from  that  son- 
ship  with  God  which  is  possible  for  us,  and  is  familiar  in  the  experience  of 
all  true  children  of  God.  But  there  is  a  manifest  difference  in  degree.  His 
intercourse  with  the  Father  is  perfect,  complete,  and  unmarred  by  sin.  All 
that  Jesus  says  or  does  he  knows  to  be  of  God.  He  is  the  Son  as  no  one  else 
is,  from  the  perfection  of  his  communion  with  God,  and  from  the  complete- 
ness with  which  his  sonship  is  realized  and  constantly  lived  out.  The  terms 
in  which  this  communion  is  described  seem  to  require  the  doctrinal  faith  in 
which  we  have  been  brought  up,  that  Jesus  is  of  one  essence  with  the  Father, 
and  one  in  eternal  being  with  him.  In  many  passages  he  speaks  so  that 
nothing  short  of  this  seems  implied  (John  16:28;  17:5;  8:  58  ;  perhaps  10:  30  ; 
20:  28).  Our  faith  in  Jesus  as  the  Eternal  Son  of  God  may  stay  itself  not  only 
on  the  unique  communion  with  God  which  we  see  him  enjoying,  but  on  his 
own  belief  and  claim  and  testimony.  It  is  not  meant  that  there  are  no  other 
grounds  for  this  great  faith.  There  is  also  the  apostolic  teaching  thereto. 
And  perhaps  if  the  faith  of  most  Christian  people  were  closely  inquired  into 
it  would  be  found  to  rest  largely  on  their  own  experience.  They  have  felt 
the  change  and  blessing  which  have  reached  them  through  communion  with 
Jesus  to  be  nothing  short  of  divine.  He  has  to  them,  as  it  has  been  expressed, 
"the  value  of  God,"  and  they  cannot  give  him  any  lower  name  than  that  of 
the  Eternal  Son.  C.  W.  V. 


The  Incarnation  and  the  Unity  of  Christ's  Person.  By  the  Rev. 
Principal  T.  C.  Edwards,  D.D.,  in  the  Expositor,  October  1895,  pp. 
241-261. 
As  the  fulness  and  the  glory  of  the  incarnation  lies  in  the  true,  divine 
personality  of  the  Logos,  so  also  the  self-sacrifice  which  the  incarnation 
implies  is  the  act  of  the  same  Logos.  The  initiative  in  the  incarnation  must 
be  ascribed  to  the  Logos  ;  that  initiative  is  an  ethical  act,  a  "becoming  poor" 
(2  Cor.  8:9),  based  upon  a  change  of  metaphysical  condition.  The  apostle 
calls  it  a  self-emptying  (Phil.  2:6),  which  is  a  word  so  extreme  and  emphatic 
that  we  must  beware  of  making  the  fact  that  it  is  unique  a  reason  for  refining 
it  away.  It  was  not  in  dying  on  the  cross  that  the  Son  of  God  began  to  sacri- 
fice himself,  but  in  assuming  human  nature  into  union  with  his  Divine  Person  ; 
not  as  if  the  assumption  of  itself  involved  humiliation,  for  then  the  humilia- 
tion of  our  Lord  would  continue  forever.  But  his  incarnation  involved  his 
divesting  himself  for  a  time  of  the  form  of  God  and  taking  upon  himself, 
instead  of  the  form  of  God,  the  form  of  a  servant.  It  is  true  that  he  had 
already  obeyed  his  Father's  command  by  incarnating  himself ;  and,  even 
previously  to  the  act  of  incarnation,  he  was  already  from  eternity  ideally, 
though  not  actually,  a  servant,  when  he  was  king.  But  now  he  took  the  form 
and  position  of  a  servant,  in  which  form  it  was  not  competent  for  him  to 
assume  the  kingship  without  dying  to  regain  it. 


536  THE  BIIUJCAI.    WORLD. 

The  doctrine  of  the  self-emptying  of  the  Logos  is  found  in  Origen 
{Hoin.  in  Jer.,  I.,  7),  among  the  Fathers,  But  it  was  not  favored  in  the  early 
church,  owing  to  the  influence  of  Athanasius,  and  to  the  extreme  and  con- 
fessedly heretical  form  in  which  it  was  thought  to  be  presented  bv  ApoUinarius. 
But  the  words,  "in  the  likeness  of  men,"  refer  to  the  humiliation  of  the  Logos 
incarnate.  In  the  Trinity  the  Second  Person  is,  in  idea,  human  ;  but  tlirough 
incarnation  he  assumed  actually  the //7^;/'m;////(v  condition,  though  he  continued 
to  be  God.  In  this  century  we  are  indebted  to  Thomasius  {Christi  Person  und 
Wtrk,  1886)  for  the  first  elucidation  of  the  kenotic  theory.  Dr.  Bruce  has 
subjected  it  {Uuiniliation  of  Christ,  Lect.  I\'.)  to  very  clear  and  most  power- 
ful, but,  to  my  mind,  not  convincing,  criticism.  In  the  first  place,  he  says  that, 
according  to  the  Thomasian  doctrine,  the  incarnation  involves  at  once  an  act 
of  assumjnion  and  an  act  of  self-limitation,  the  former  an  exercise  of  omnip- 
otence, the  latter  the  loss  of  omnipotence,  and  asks,  Are  such  contrary  effects 
of  one  act  of  will  compatible?  But  there  is  no  contradiction  here.  In  the 
creation  of  the  world  God  passes  from  a  state  of  quiescence  to  a  state  of 
activity  ;  the  incarnation  is  a  Divine  Person,  withdrawing  himself  from  activity 
that  he  might  be  subject  to  infirmity.  In  the  second  place,  Dr.  Bruce  acutely 
observes  that  the  depotentiated  Logos  seems  superfluous,  because  it  implies 
that  he  has  been  reduced  to  a  state  of  helpless  passivity  or  impotence.  But 
the  kenosis  consists  of  two  successive  steps.  The  first  step  was  the  laying 
aside  the  form  of  God,  and  this  act  the  apostle  dates  back  in  the  pre-incarnate 
state  of  the  Logos.  It  was  an  infinite  act  of  self-denial,  than  which  a  lesser 
would  have  been  impossible  to  him,  as  well  as  incajiable  of  being  revealed  as 
an  ethical  example  to  men.  Then,  when  he  had  divested  himself  of  his 
metaphysical  omnipotence  as  Son  of  God,  and  was  "found  in  fashion  as  a 
man,"  he  humbled  himself  —  an  expre.ssion  properly  applicable  only  to  a  man 
or  the  Logos  as  man  —  and  he  humbled  himself  more  than  would  have  been 
possible  to  any  mere  man  or  angel,  however  perfect,  and  however  much  aided 
by  the  .Spirit  of  God.  For  our  Lord's  moral  omnipotence  still  remained  to 
him,  and  the  helj)  of  the  Spirit  was  added,  which  enabled  him  to  become 
obedient  unto  death,  yea  the  death  of  the  cross,  and  constituted  his  obedience 
redemptive  —  priestly  and  sacrificial.  In  the  third  place,  Dr.  Bruce  objects 
that  the  kenotic  theory  introduces  a  Ijrcak  in  the  consciousness  of  the  Logos 
as  God.  This  holds  good  only  against  certain  forms  of  the  doctrine.  Quies- 
cence does  not  mean  annihilation.  All  that  is  essential  is  that  the  Logos  did 
not  in  any  way  or  measure  hamper  the  free  a(tivit\'  of  the  humanity.  .\n 
omniscient  or  omnipotent  man,  not  in  need  of  the  unction  and  |)ower  of  tlie 
S])irit,  is  inconceivable,  but  a  perfectly  just  and  loving  man,  having  tiie  Spirit, 
is  not.  If  the  divine  side  of  the  complex  personality  of  Christ  is  the  initiatory 
and  |jroductive  element,  the  human  side  is  the  regulative. 

Among  English  theologians  who  accept  the  doctrine  of  the  kenosis  are 
Canon  Gore  {/uini/>/on  Lt'iiiires,  1891,  Lect.  \'I.)  and  l'rin(  i|)al  I'airbairn 
{Christ  in  Mottirn  J'hio/oj^y,  p.  476).  C.  W.  V^ 


+.-ita 


i 


Mi 


%. 


hiji' 


v:^Ti 


J'^ 


u 


*: 


mmm 

1 

T  ■    "^i:^ 

■  P^'^ 

u 

m; '    wm^^ 

'^^'  %^^^m 

V 

LH^  iffl-wh-  -  Bta 

i 

lJIHwv  >f  'wSkSi  r*^  ^hI 

■ 

;^-^  )^l.%rlH 

1 

THE   BIBLICAL  WORLD 


CONTINUING 


The   Old  and  New   Testament  Student 


Volume  VIII.  DECEMBER,     I  896  Number  d 


THE    CHH^D    PROPHECIES    OF    ISAIAH. 


By  W  I  L  L  I  A  M  R.  Harper, 
The  University  of  Chicago. 


The  child  IiiDiianuel. —  The  child  Maher-shalal-hash-baz. —  The  Prince 
of  Peace. —  The  shoot  of  Jesse. 

It  is  in  Isaiah,  after  all,  that  we  find  the  pictures  of  the  com- 
ing Messiah  most  vividly  portrayed.  However  it  may  be 
explained,  we  must  recognize  our  dependence  upon  this  prince 
of  the  prophetic  order  for  many  of  those  wonderful  artistic 
delineations  which  bind  together  indissolubly  the  Old  and  the 
New  Testament,  the  foreshadowing  and  the  reality.  At  this 
time  we  are  to  think  only  of  those  conceptions  of  the  great 
deliverance,  yearned  after  so  earnestly  by  the  prophet  and 
described  bv  him  so  pathetically,  which  have  as  their  central 
figure  a  child.  We  may  not  forget  that  a  true  appreciation  of 
these  pictures  is  only  to  be  gained  by  a  careful  study  of  the 
other  pictures  painted  by  Isaiah,  which  have  other  figures  in  the 
center  and  of  which  the  background  is  something  very  different. 
But  at  the  risk  of  inadequate,  or  even  wrong,  interpretation,  we 
shall  confine  ourselves  to  the  child-picUires.  These  are  well 
known  :  The  child,  Immanuel,  Isa.  7  :  7-10  ;  the  child,  Maher- 
shalal-hash-baz,   Isa.   8  :  1-4  ;   the   Prince   of   Peace,   9:1-6;  the 

shoot  of  Jesse,  1 1  :  1-9. 

417 


41 8  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

I.  The  chilli  I)}iinanucl. —  Lsa.  7:7-10.  It  is  735  1^.  C. 
Assyria,  whose  powerful  influence  has  ahxadv  been  felt  again  and 
again  by  the  nations  on  the  Palestinian  seaboard,  is  threatening 
Syria,  Israel,  and  Judah.  Remember  the  geographical  location 
of  these  three  nations,  and,  as  well,  the  route  which  Assyria 
must  follow  in  order  to  reach  Jerusalem.  In  an  invasion,  .Syria 
will  suffer  the  first  attack  ;  and  Syria  and  Israel,  now  closely  con- 
nected, will  be  in  sore  straits  if  Assyria  should  attack  them  in 
front  while  Judah  is  an  enemy  in  the  rear.  Since  Assyria's  com- 
ing is  certain,  Syria  and  Israel  unite  to  force  Judah  into  triple 
confederacy.  But  Judah 's  king,  Ahaz,  thinks  it  a  better  policy 
to  make  terms  directly  with  Assyria  and  thus  avoid  the  danger 
of  in\'asion.  To  force  the  alliance  of  Judah,  Syria  and  Israel  lav 
siege  to  Jerusalem.  The  city  is  panic-stricken.  The  royal  court 
is  in  terror.  The  king,  while  engaged  in  an  insjjection  of  the 
water  supply  of  the  city,  is  confronted  by  Jehovah's  prophet 
Isaiah,  who  brings  with  him  the  boy  Shear-Jashub,  a  name  of 
good  omen  (a  remnant  will  return)  to  those  who  believe  in  Jeho- 
vah ;  of  ill  omen  (only  a  remnant  will  return)  to  those  who  are 
faithless.  "  Aha/,,  "  says  Isaiah,  "be  calm  and  ([uiet,  have  faith 
in  Jehovah,  and  the  two  kings  who  threaten  us  shall  not  accom- 
plish their  jjurpose.  If  you  will  believe  and  trust  Jehovah,  all 
will  be  well."  Trust  in  Jehovah  at  this  time  meant  independence 
of  Assyria.  Could  one  trust  in  Jehovah  and  at  the  same  time 
make  an  alliance  with  a  foreign  power  and  in  making  that  alli- 
ance accept  as  all-powerful  the  gods  of  that  foreign  power?  I  low 
Ahaz  received  this  first  message  we  learn  indirectly  from  the 
record.  He  was  deaf  to  the  words  of  the  prophet.  The  next 
day  comes  or  the  next  week,  and  again  Isaiah  aj)proaches  the 
king  in  order  to  jjersuade  him  of  the  truth  of  the  message  sent 
from  (jotl.  This  time  it  would  seem  that  the  message  is  deliv- 
ered inside  of  the  jjalace,  in  the  very  presence  of  the  royal  family. 
"  Ahaz,"  says  Isaiah,  "you  would  not  believe  my  former  message 
from  Jehovah  ;  I  come  again.  Let  me  give  you  a  sign  which  shall 
be  evidence  of  this  truth  ;  a  sign  to  he  wrought  in  heaven  or  in 
hell  according  to  your  command."  Hut  Ahaz,  the  hypocrite, 
already  in  alliance  with   Tiglathpileser,  will   not  ask   a  sign.      He 


THE  CHILD  PROPHECIES  OF  ISAIAH  419 

will  not,  so  he  says,  put  Jehovah  to  the  test.  The  prophet, 
freed  from  all  restraint,  burning  with  righteous  indignation, 
utters  words  which  are  intended  to  strike  terror  to  the  heart  of  the 
royal  family  :  '<  Hear  now,  O  House  of  David,  is  it  too  little  for 
you  to  weary  men  that  ye  weary  my  God  also?  You  will  not 
accept  my  proposition  to  give  you  a  sign  of  the  truth  of  Jeho- 
vah's message,  therefore  Jehovah  himself  shall  appoint  you  a 
sign.  Behold,  a  yoiuig  ivo}iian  sliall  conceive  and  bear. a  son  a?id 
she  shall  call  his  name  Lnmanuel}  For  before  the  boy  shall  know 
how  to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose  the  good  (that  is,  before  he  is, 
let  us  say,  four  or  five  years  of  age)  the  land  of  whose  two  kings 
(that  is  Assyria  and  Israel)  thou  art  in  terror  shall  be  deserted. 
If  thou,  O  Ahaz,  will  trust  in  God,  he  will  give  evidence  of  his 
presence  and  your  enemies  shall  not  harm  you.  But  if  you  will 
not  believe,  ruin  shall  come  upon  Judah  as  well  as  upon  Syria 
and  Israel  at  the  hand  of  Assyria."  It  was  a  promise  of  a  new 
regime,  a  new  political  situation,  dependent,  however,  upon  the 
steadfastness  of  Ahaz's  faith.  The  picture  maybe  briefly  sum- 
marized :  In  the  distance  Assyria,  laying  waste  the  territory  of 
Syria  and  Israel  ;  in  Judah  a  child,  the  manifestation  of  Jehovah's 
presence,  guarding  as  ruler  and  protector  the  interests  of  Jeho- 
vah's kingdom  ;  Judah  herself  in  peace  and  contentment  because 
of  Jehovah's  presence.  Was  the  picture  realized?  Not  in  the 
time  of  Ahaz,  for  Ahaz  was  always  faithless. 

2.  The  child  Malier-shalal-hash-baz.  —  8  :  1-4.  It  is  73^  B.  C. 
No  change  has  yet  come  in  the  political  situation.  The  people, 
to  whom  the  prophet's  words  addressed  to  the  king,  have  in 
all  probability  become  known,  need  further  assurance  of  the 
message.  There  is  still  time  for  repentance  and  a  turning 
toward    Jehovah.       The    message    came    from    Jehovah    to    the 

'The  prophet  does  not  have  in  mind  (i)  the  wife  of  Ahaz,  the  child  being  Heze- 
kiah,  who  was  to  be  provisionally  an  evidence  of  God's  presence  {cf.  C.  R.  Brown,  in 
Journal  of  Biblical  Literature  and  Exegesis,  Vol.  IX,  1890,  pp.  1 18-127),  nor  (2)  the 
unmarried  daughter  of  Ahaz  [cf.  Nagelseach  in  Lange's  Isaiah)  whose  disgraceful 
condition  is  thus  revealed  by  the  prophet,  or  (3)  the  prophet's  own  wife,  Immanuel 
being  the  son  of  Isaiah  as  well  as  Shear-jashub  (so  many),  nor  (4)  any  young  woman 
who  in  the  near  future  may  conceive  and  hear  a  son  {cf.  Chevne,  Introduction  to 
Isaiah). 


420  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

prophet.  "Take  a  large  tablet  aiul  write  on  it  in  j)lain  characters 
'  Swift-spoil,  speedv-prey.'-  Secure  reliable  witnesses  in  order 
that  in  future  times  the  writing  may  be  attested."  The  prophet 
we  understand,  obeyed  the  order  given.  About  this  time  the 
prophet's  own  wife  conceives  and  bears  a  son.  By  the  command 
of  Jehovah  he  is  given  for  his  name  the  inscri[)tion  of  the  tablet. 
"  For  before  the  boy  shall  know  how  to  cry  'my  father'  and  'my 
mother'  (that  is,  before  he  is  fifteen  or  eighteen  months  of  age) 
they  shall  carry  the  riches  of  Damascus  and  the  spoil  of  Samaria 
(that  is,  the  two  kings  of  whom  Ahaz  was  afraid)  before  the 
king  of  Assyria."  It  was  in  732,  a  vear  or  so  later,  that  Tig- 
lathpileser  destroved  Damascus  and  carried  two  of  the  northern 
tribes  into  captivitv. 

3.  Tlie  Prince  of  Peace. — 9:1-7.  The  time  of  Tiglathpileser's 
invasion  is  one  of  darkness  and  sorrow,  captivity  and  blood- 
shed. It  is  easy  to  conceive  the  feelings  of  Judah  and  Jerusalem 
when  the  news  comes  that  Damascus  has  fallen  and  a  portion  of 
Israel  has  been  carried  away  into  caj)tivity.  In  this  time  of 
gloom  and  deep  shadow  the  pro])het  ])reaches  of  the  great  light 
which  shall  shine.  In  this  time  of  grief  and  dismay  he  preaches 
of  exultation  and  jov,  the  jov  of  har\-est  and  the  joy  of  dividing 
the  spoil.  In  this  day  when  Israel  has  first  come  to  feel  the 
yoke  of  Assyria,  he  s])eaks  of  the  time  when  this  burdensome 
voke  shall  be  broken.  In  this  day  of  destruction  and  warfare 
he  tells  of  a  time  when  all  warlike  instruments  shall  be  destroyed. 
But  the  people  whom  he  addressed  must  regard  him  as  a  vision- 
arv.  How  can  these  things  be  r  It  is  true  that  the  destruction 
of  warlike  instruments  will  niai<e  it  p()ssil)le  for  the  )'oke  just 
n(nv  j)laced  on  Israel's  shoulder  to  be  removed.  The  remo\al  oi 
this  yoke  will  undoubtedl\'  bring  the  greatest  possible  jov,  and 
because  of  this  joy  there  will  e\"ervwhere  be  light  instead  oi 
gloom.  But  how  shall  this  great  change  be  brought  about? 
The  jjrophet  tells  us  :  "A  chikl  shall  be  born  unto  us  ;  a  son 
shall  be  given  unto  us  and  the  government  sludl  be  upon  his 
shoulders;  and  his  name  shall  be  called  Wonder- Counsellor, 
God-hero,  Father  of  booty,  Prince  of  Peace;  who  shall  sit  upon 
tin-  throne  of   David  and  establish  if  and  sM|)p()rt  it  bv  righteous- 


THE  CHILD  PROPHECIES  OF  ISAIAH  42  I 

ness  forever."  The  picture  is  the  same  as  before ;  that  of  a 
child  seated  upon  the  Davidic  throne,  with  war  banished  from 
the  earth  and  peace  established  everywhere  ;  the  world  at  liberty 
and  the  universe  enjoying  this  liberty. 

4.  TJic  shoot  of  Jesse. —  1 1  :  1-9.  Fifteen  or  twenty  years  have 
elapsed  and  the  prophet  who  had  begun  his  work  twenty-five  years 
before  is  now  a  man  of  middle  age.  Another  picture  is  presented, 
that  of  a  shoot  coming  forth  from  the  stock  of  Jesse,  a  branch 
from  his  roots  bearing  fruit,  upon  whom  rests  the  spirit  of  Jeho- 
vah, a  spirit  of  wisdom  and  discernment,  of  counsel  and  might,  of 
knowledge  and  of  the  fear  of  Jehovah.  Judgment  is  rendered 
in  accordance  with  fundamental  principles  of  equity.  Peace 
exists  ever3''where,  not  only  between  man  and  man,  but  also 
between  man  and  beast.  "They  do  not  hurt  or  destroy  in  all 
my  holy  mountain  ;  for  the  earth  is  full  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
Lord,  as  the  waters  cover  the  sea."  And  all  the  nations  are 
seeking  the  root  of  Jesse  which  stands  for  an  ensign  to  the 
peoples. 

Isaiah's  vision  was  clear;  but,  as  history  shows  it  lacked 
perspective.  Knowing  God  as  he  did,  and  God's  laws,  he  knew 
that  there  would  come  a  manifestation  of  God's  love  and  mercy 
to  the  people  of  promise.  He  sees,  ahead,  an  ideal  nation,  an 
ideal  King,  an  ideal  society.  These  are  involved  in  the  very 
nature  of  God  himself.  They  are  as  sure  as  that  God  exists. 
His  soul  is  so  illumined  by  the  divine  Spirit  that  the  picture  of 
these  things  has  painted  itself  upon  his  heart  and  brain.  There 
was  no  prophet  more  confident  than  was  Isaiah.  But  Isaiah  was 
only  a  prophet;  he  was  therefore  a  man.  He  was  speaking  for 
those  about  him,  and  must  speak  in  their  language.  His  thought  is 
expressed  in  figures  colored  b}'  his  surroundings.  His  vision  of  the 
future  is  clothed  in  the  imagery  of  the  present ;  just  as  the  prophet 
in  speaking  of  the  past  used  this  imagery  in  his  descriptions  of 
the  past.  This  new  dispensation,  represented  by  the  child,  and 
in  which  the  child  will  play  so  important  a  role,  Isaiah  fondly 
imagines  will  come  with  the  Assyrian  invasion.  He  expects  it 
within  five,  then  two  years.  The  invasion  comes,  but  the  time  is 
not  yet  fulfilled.      Is  Isaiah  disappointed  and  discouraged  ?     Per- 


422 


THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 


haps  for  a  moment,  but  onh'  for  a  moment ;  and  then  again  he 
preaches,  as  before,  of  the  coming  cliild.  He,  without  question, 
expected  this  child  in  his  own  day.  He  declared  his  coming 
w'hile  he  was  still  voung ;  as  the  years  pass  he  continues  to  look 
for  him  ;  and  now  when  he  is  old  and  his  work  is  almost  finished 
he  still  looks  forward,  as  earnestly,  as  courageously,  as  con- 
fidently as  before.  It  was  not  God's  will  that  Isaiah's  day  should 
witness  the  introduction  of  the  new  dispensation.  Jeremiah, 
realizing  the  work  to  be  accomplished  by  the  captivity,  assured 
the  people  of  his  time  that  the  new  regime  would  come  in  sev- 
enty years,  but  at  the  end  of  seventy  years  Daniel,  down  in 
Babylon,  postponed  it  seventy  weeks  (not  literal  weeks).  In 
time  the  child  came,  and  in  coming  fulfilled  the  prayers  and  the 
prophecies  of  all  the  saints  and  all  the  prophets,- — the  child  of 
David's  family,  the  Messiah,  the  Christ. 


K.MMIAI.I.        lli:.\I).S   OF  TIIK    IMANT    IKSUS 


See  page  463 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BIRTH. 


By  Professor  George  T.  Purves,  D.D., 
Princeton  Theological   Seminary. 


The  account  of  the  birth  hi  MattJiew given  to  prove  Jesus  to  be  the  Christ. — 
In  Luke,  to  show  the  fulfilment  of  the  promise  of  salvation. —  The  imitual 
relation  of  the  two  accotints.  —  Objections  to  the  infancy  narratives  not  strong 
enough   to  warrant  disbelief. 

The  story  of  the  birth  of  Jesus  is  recounted  in  but  two  of  the 
gospels.  The  objects  with  which  Mark  and  John  composed 
their  narratives  led  them  to  begin  with  the  public  appearance  of 
the  Baptist,  which  immediately  preceded  the  public  ministry  of 
Christ,  without  prefixing  any  account  of  the  latter's  earlier  life. 
John,  moreover,  assumed  familiarity  with  the  other  gospels. 
None  of  the  gospels  were  written  with  what  we  would  consider 
a  biographical  interest.  The  religious  significance  of  the  Lord's 
public  work  and  teaching  was  so  supreme  to  the  earliest  Chris- 
tians, as  is  shown  by  Acts  1:21,  22,  that  it  did  not  occur  to  the 
evangelists  to  treat  his  life  as  a  whole  from  a  merely  historical 
point  of  view.  But  it  did  come  within  the  purpose  of  Matthew 
and  Luke  to  prefix  to  their  gospels  —  which  like  the  others  dealt 
mainly  with  the  public  ministry  of  Christ  —  brief  accounts  con- 
cerning his  birth  and  infancy ;  not,  however,  because  these 
evangelists  were,  unlike  the  others,  biographers,  but  because  the 
earlier  incidents  which  they  have  preserved  contributed  to  the 
particular  point  of  view  from  which  they  intended  to  set  the 
public  ministry  forth.  Luke  indeed  possessed  no  little  historical 
insight,  and  in  the  Acts  shows  himself  a  real  historical  artist. 
It  may  be,  therefore,  that  in  beginning  his  gospel  where  he  did, 
he  was  partly  governed  by  the  desire  to  present  a  complete  nar- 
rative. This  we  may  infer,  also,  from  the  language  of  his  pref- 
ace (i  :  3).  But  Matthew's  gospel  is  proof  that  Luke's  did  not 
include  all  the  facts,  and  his  preface  does  not  claim  that  it   did. 

423 


424  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

We  must  still  suppose  that  in  the  narrative  oi:  Christ's  birth  and 
infancy  he  was  chiefly  governed  by  that  religious  point  of  view 
from  whicli  he  desired  to  exhibit  the  storv  of  the  Son  of  Man  as 
a  whole.  The  objects  with  which  Matthew  and  Luke  wrote  were 
thus  the  occasion  of  their  preserving  the  story  of  the  birth,  and 
to  their  narratives,  with  their  noteworthy  agreements  and  differ- 
ences, must  we  go  to  learn  it. 

In  Matthew's  account  the  story  of  the  birth  and  infancy  of 
Jesus  is  obviously  related  for  the  purpose  of  showing  that  he  was 
indeed  the  royal  Messiah  of  Israel  and  the  promised  Son  of 
David.  This  is  the  aspect  in  which  he  is  predominantlv  repre- 
sented in  that  gospel.  So,  in  the  first  place,  the  legal  genealogy 
of  "Jesus  who  is  called  Christ "  is  traced  through  Joseph  to 
David  and  Abraham,  to  whom  the  sjjecial  ]:)romises  had  been 
made  that  from  their  seed  Messiah  should  be  born.  This  gene- 
alogical register  is  artificiallv  arranged  in  three  sections  of  four- 
teen generations  each  —  from  Abraham  to  Da\id,  from  Da\id 
to  the  captivity,  and  from  the  captivity  to  Christ^ — an  arrange- 
ment intended  partly  as  an  aid  to  memory  but  also  to  emphasize 
the  greatness  of  the  epoch  which  began  with  the  birth  of  Jesus. 
Christ's  pedigree  is  here  traced  through  Joseph  because  he  was 
in  fact  Joseph's  legal  heir  and  therefore  would  naturallv  be 
understood  to  claim  his  Davidic  rights  through  him.  An  exam- 
ination of  the  genealogy  shows  that  in  other  cases  the  inherit- 
ance did  not  descend  by  direct  paternitv,  so  that  the  phrase 
"  begat  "  is  used  in  a  legal  rather  than  in  a  phvsical  sense.'     The 

'Thus  .Matthew,  like  Kzra5:2,  Neh.  12:1,  Hay.  1  :  i,  states  "  Salathiel  begat 
Zorobabel ; "  though  from  i  Chron.  3:  19  we  learii  that  the  actual  relation  was  that  of 
uncle  and  nephew.  Also,  by  a  comparison  with  .Matt,  of  Luke  3  :  27  and  I  Chron.  3  : 
17,  18,  it  becomes  quite  certain  that  the  phrase, ''Jechonias  begat  Salathiel,"  means 
simply  that  Salathiel  was  the  legal  heir  of  Jechonias.  This  phraseology  is  in  accord- 
ance with  the  largeness  of  meaning  given  by  the  Hebrews  to  the  woril  "  son."  In  v. 
8  Matthew  omits  three  kings,  yet  says"Joram  begat  Ozias  (U/ziah)."  A  similar 
omission  occurs  in  v.  11. 

May  not  this  suggest  the  explanation  of  the  reading  of  the  Lewis  Syriac  gospels 
which  has  recently  excited  discu.ssion?  Matt,  i  :  lO  there  reads  "  Joseph,  to  whom  was 
betrothed  Mary  the  Virgin,  liegat  Jesus  who  is  called  the  Christ."  This  reading 
clearly  did  not  impiv  unbelief  in  the  miraculous  birth,  for  the  latter  is  immediately 
stated  in  the  following  verses.  There  is  no  probability  that  I  lie  Syriac  reveals  the 
existence  of  two  original,  divergent   traditions,  imperfectly  am;dg;ini;Ued  ;   for  the  cvi- 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BIRTH  425 

whole  point  was  to  establish  legal  heirship.  Therefore  it  did 
not  in  the  least  conflict  with  this  representation,  that  Matthew 
immediately  proceeds  to  narrate  that  Jesus  was  miraculously  con- 
ceived by  Mary  before  her  marriage  with  her  intended  husband. 
But  while  statingthe  fact  of  the  miraculous  conception,  Matthew's 
interest  in  the  Davidic  heirship  of  Jesus  led  him  not  merely  to 
mention  Mary's  experience,  but  to  relate  at  length  Joseph's  con- 
duct when  her  condition  became  known.  This  "  son  of  David  " 
was  warned  by  an  angel  not  to  fear  to  take  Mary  for  his  wife.  He 
was  told  that  the  mystery  of  her  conception  was  the  work  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  and  he  was  directed  to  call  the  child  "Jesus,"  inas- 
much as  he  would  save  his  people  from  their  sins.  It  was  further 
pointed  out  to  him  by  the  angel '  that  the  whole  mysterious 
transaction  was  in  fulfilment  of  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah  (7  :  14). 
The  words  of  the  prophet,  whether  originally  intended  to  refer 
to  a  virgin  or  simply  to  any  young  woman,  were  certainly  most 
emphatically  realized  when  a  virgin  was  made  the  instrument  of 
ushering  into  the  world  the  promised  Messiah  ;  and  in  such  an 
event,  where  God  so  obviously  operated,  special  propriety  lay  in 
the  name  Emmanuel  —  God  with  us  —  which  Isaiah  had  applied 
to  the  expected  child.  Thus  Matthew's  jiurpose  was  not  to 
relate  all  the  story.  He  rather  assumed  in  his  readers  a  knowl- 
edge of  Christ's  miraculous  origin.  His  motive  was  to  exhibit 
the  legal  royalty  of  Jesus  and   to  adjust  this,  by  explaining  the 

dence  for  our  Greek  text  goes  much  further  back  than  the  Syriac  and  is  abundantly 
attested.  Neither  can  the  variation  have  been  due  to  heretical  (Ebionite)  intent ;  for 
V.  16  itself  implies  the  orthodox  view;  no  such  intent  can  be  shown  elsewhere  in  the 
codex;  and  the  omission  from  v.  25  of  "he  knew  her  not  until,"  etc.,  evinces  rather 
a  disposition  to  protect  the  virginity  of  Mary.  Neither  can  the  reading  of  v.  16  be 
assigned  to  mere  scribal  error,  for  v.  21  also  reads  "  she  shall  bear  to  thee  a  son  "  and 
25,  "she  bore  to  him  a  son."  The  Syriac  reading  of  v.  16  probably  is  to  be  traced, 
together  with  that  of  the  Old  Latin  MS.  (/&)  ("Joseph,  cui  desponsata  virgo  Maria 
genuit.  Jesum  Christum  ")  to  a  Greek  text  slightly  different  from  ours  {cf.  Zahn,  Theolog. 
Literaturblatt  18  Jan.  1895),  which  {k)  translates  perhaps  literally.  But  that  text,  as 
well  as  the  Syriac  reading  derived  from  it,  appears  to  proceed  on  the  idea  that  "begat" 
describes  legal  paternity  and  could  be  used  where  physical  paternity  was  never 
thought  of. 

'The  yi-iovev  of  v.  22  implies  that  we  are  to  understand  the  language  as  that  of 
the  angel,  not  of  the  evangelist ;  though  the  latter  adds  the  interpretation  of  the  name 
Emmanuel.      Cf.  Wetss  :  Mattliiius  Evangeliiim. 


426  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

fidelity  and  conduct  of  Joseph,  to  the  fact  of  the  Lord's  super- 
natural generation.  Then,  to  complete  the  account,  it  is  added 
that  Joseph  took  Mary  to  be  his  wife  and  reverently  awaited 
with  her  the  birth  of  the  child.  He  indicated  also  his  de\out 
belief  in  the  angel's  message  and  in  the  high  destiny  of  his  heir, 
by  giving  him  the  significant  name  which  the  angel  had  directed. 
By  the  first  evangelist,  therefore,  the  story  of  Christ's  birth 
was  shown  to  agree  fittingly  with  the  Messianic  claims  which 
the  subsequent  narrative  presents  and  illustrates.  The  events  of 
the  infancy  also,  as  given  by  Matthew, —  the  visit  of  the  Magi, 
the  Bight  into  Egyjjt,  the  slaughter  of  the  children,  the  final 
settlement  in  Nazareth, —  are  all  introduced  for  the  purpose  of 
exhibiting  in  them  the  fulfilments  of  prophecy  pertaining  to 
Messiah.  His  object  was  thus  not  to  give  a  complete  history  of 
the  birth  of  Jesus  but  to  bring  out  the  cogent  proofs  which  it 
provided  of  the  royal,  Messianic  dignity  of  Joseph's  and  Mary's 
child. 

In  Luke's  gospel  the  story  of  the  birth  is  given  under  the 
control,  for  the  most  part,  of  quite  a  different  purpose.  We 
have  observed  that  Matthew  refers  briefly  to  the  miraculous  con- 
cej)tion  and  is  at  no  special  pains  to  prove  it,  as  if  it  were  a  fact  well 
known  among  his  readers.  The  longer  narrative  of  Luke  pro- 
vides the  information  to  which  Matthew  thus  alludes.  It  may 
reasonably  be  inferred  that  the  third  exangelist  derived  his 
material  in  this  instance  from  the  family  circle  in  which  the 
events  occurred,  with  one  member  of  which  we  know  that  he 
was  acfjuainted  (Acts  21  :  18).  From  that  famih-  it  may  le 
suj^jjosed  to  have  circulated  among  the  Hebrew  Christians.  The 
strongU'  Hebraistic  coloring  of  this  section  seems  also  to  imj)ly 
that  Luke  found  it  already  in  written  form.'  At  the  same  time 
the  evangelist  ajjpears  to  have  added  some  explanatory  clauses 
to  fit  the  narrative  for  Gentile  readers  [c.  in;.,  i  :  5.  g  ;  2  :  i ,  2,  per- 
haj)s  2^).  The  beautiful  story,  howexer,  bears  on  its  lace  the 
evidence  that  it  issued  frt)m  just  some  such  circle  ot  pious  Jews 
as  that  which  Matthew  depicts  in  the  characters  of  Joseph  and 
Mary.      In  it  we  feel  ourselves  far  from    the   worldly   priestcraft, 

'  Sfc  I'KINK,  l:ine  vorkiniouisilu-  Ci/ier/ir/e rutin  '/'■f  l.tik-tn,  lS()I. 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BIRTH  427 

formal  ceremonialism,  and  political  ambitions  which  ruled  in 
Jerusalem,  and  which  arrayed  themselves  in  fierce  opposition  to 
Jesus  when  his  public  ministry  began  ;  far  removed,  also,  from 
the  fanatical  patriotism  of  the  common  people,  which  was  so 
devoid  of  spiritual  motives  that  it  could  not  understand  Jesus 
even  while  it  admired  him.  We  find  ourselves  in  an  atmosphere 
of  devoted  piety,  of  intense  longing  for  the  promised  Saviour  of 
Israel  ;  in  a  circle  where  Old  Testament  words  and  ideas  nour- 
ished the  spiritual  life.  The  language  of  Zacharias  and  Eliza- 
beth, of  Mary,  Simeon,  and  Anna,  does  not  indeed  transcend 
the  point  of  view  from  which  devout  Hebrews  would  be  expected 
to  conceive  of  the  Messiah.  But  they  reveal  such  scriptural 
piety,  formed  after  the  Old  Testament  pattern,  as  became  the 
household  from  which  the  Christ  and  his  forerunner  were  to 
spring.  The  narrative  thus  bears  striking  marks  of  historicity. 
Its  fine  religious  realism  is  itself  strong  assurance  of  its  histor- 
ical truthfulness. 

In  this  narrative,  then,  the  birth  of  Jesus  appears  as  the 
event  in  which  the  promise  of  salvation,  long  deferred  to  Israel, 
began  to  be  fulfilled.  The  goodness  and  grace  of  God  in  at  last 
providing  redemption  seems  to  be  the  leading  motive  of  the 
recital.  We  notice  the  stress  laid  on  the  gladness  of  the  tidings 
brought  by  the  angel  to  Zacharias.  They  emphasize  the  joy 
which  John  the  Baptist's  appearance  would  cause  ;  his  spiritual 
character ;  the  revival  of  piety  of  which  he  would  be  the  instru- 
ment ;  his  position  as  forerunner  of  the  Lord  himself.  Then  in 
Gabriel's  annunciation  to  the  Virgin  the  message  of  salvation 
is  still  more  strongly  stated.  The  maiden's  natural  fear  at  the 
appearance  of  the  angel  is  met  by  the  assurance  of  God's  favor 
to  her.  The  same  significant  name  "Jesus  "  was  revealed  to  her 
also  as  that  which  should  be  given  to  her  child,  while  his  dig- 
nit}'  ("Son  of  the  Highest")  and  his  everlasting  reign  were 
predicted  in  terms  fitted  to  no  mere  worldly  monarch,  but  only 
applicable  to  one  who  would  possess  primarily  a  religious  and 
spiritual  dominion.  The  religious  import  of  the  event  is  also 
emphasized  in  the  explicit  statement  by  which  the  angel 
explained  to  Mary  the  holy  nature  of  the   mystery  that  should 


428  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

take  place.  It  was  to  be  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  of  whom 
the  Old  Testament  had  spoken  as  the  powerful  agent  of 
God's  grace  in  the  theocracv,  and  of  whose  special  bestowment 
on  Messiah  Isaiah  had  repeatedly  testified  (Isa.  ii:i,etc.;  42:1, 
etc.;  61:1,  etc.);  so  that  the  j)romised  child  would  be  in  a  unique 
sense  "holy,  the  Son  of  God."  We  should  carefully  obscrye 
that  Mary  was  not  told  that  her  child  was  to  be  incarnate 
God.  The  phrase  "Son  of  God"  is  undoubtedly  used  in  a 
theocratic  sense.  There  is  not  a  suggestion  in  the  narrative 
of  later  theological  statement.  The  story  remains  strictly  in 
the  bounds  of  such  religious  ideas  as  were  possible  to  a  dexout 
Hebrew.  The  main  thought  of  the  narration  is  the  gracious  ful- 
filment of  the  promised  salvation.  Apart  from  the  question  of 
the  miraculous  character  of  the  events  described, —  a  question 
which  has  no  right  to  intrude  into  our  study, —  the  annunciation 
to  the  Virgin  is  described  in  a  way  exactly  harmonious  with  the 
intense  spiritual  aspirations  and  actual  religious  ideas  which 
Mary   may  most  naturally  be  supposed   to   have   had. 

And  Mary  is  described  as  accepting  her  lot  in  the  same 
exalted  fervor  of  devotion.  When  her  natural  modesty  and 
need  of  sympathy  led  her  to  visit  her  kinswoman  Elizabeth, 
of  whose  expected  motherhood  the  angel  had  also  informed  her, 
their  salutations  evince  the  lofty  and  pure  thoughts  which  filled 
their  souls.  Where  was  it  more  natural  for  the  long  silent  voice 
of  inspiration  to  break  forth  again  than  from  the  lips  of  these 
holy  women,  who  had  been  chosen  for  the  two  highest  honors 
of  their  race?  In  particular,  the  outburst  of  Mary's  j^raise  in 
the  Magnificat,  by  its  close  reproduction  of  Old  Testament 
jjsalmody,  and  esj)ecially  by  its  echoes  of  Hannah's  song  (i 
Sam.  2:1-10),  testifies  to  the  direction  in  which  her  mind  was 
turning,  and  ought  to  confirm  our  confidence  in  the  historical 
character  of  the  record.  A  like  remark  may  be  made  concerning 
the  song  of  Zacharias  at  the  birth  of  John,  which  moves  wholly 
in  the  sj)herc  of  Israel itish  itieas  and  re|)cats  the  thought  that 
the  ])romiscd  salvation  was  at  hand. 

We  arc  thus  brought  to  Luke's  account  of  the  actual  birth  of 
Jesus  (2:1-20).      It  is    characteristic   of  the  evangelist  that   he 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BIRTH  429 

relates   the    events    to   secular    dates  (see  1:5;    3:1).      He  thus 
explains  that,  through  the  decree  of  Augustus  that  all  the  world 
should  be  enrolled,  the  birth  occurred    in   Bethlehem,  and  adds, 
again  quite  after  his  manner,  "this  was  the  first  enrolment  made 
when    Cyrenius    was    governor   of    S_yria."      As    is  well   known, 
Luke's  accuracy  in  this  statement  has  been  vigorously  attacked, 
most  exhaustively  perhaps  by   Schurer.^      It  would   take  us  far 
beyond  the  limits  and  purpose  of  this  article  to  discuss  the  ques- 
tion in  detail.     "VVe  believe,  however,  that  every  objection  made 
by  Schurer  may  be  successfully  met,  and  it  is   gratifying  to  note 
that  so   high  an  authority  as   Professor  W.  M.  Ramsay  is  of  the 
same  opinion."     Apart  from  that  question,  however,  Luke's  nar- 
rative calls  for  further  remark.    He,  too,  like  Matthew,  represents 
Joseph  as  of  Davidic  lineage,  though  it  is    probable,  from  i  -.32, 
that  Mary  also    was  of  like    descent.      He    describes  briefly  the 
circumstances  of  the  birth,  mentioning  the  fact  that  it  occurred 
in  a  stable  because  there  was  no   room   for  them  in  the  lodging- 
house.      But,  true  to  the  prevailing  motive  of  the  entire  section, 
he  hastens  to  narrate  at  greater    length    the   annunciation  to  the 
shepherds,    since   in    it    the    message    of    the   fulfilment    of  the 
promised    salvation    was  again    repeated.      This,    therefore,  was 
evidently  the  governing   thought    under    the    influence  of  which 
the  whole  narrative  was  written.    It  corresponds  with  the  leading 
thought  of  the  following  gospel.      The  latter  makes  conspicuous 
the  o-race  of  God  which  was  brought    unto    men   through   Jesus 
Christ  3  and  the  keynote  of  this  evangel   of  grace   is  struck  in 
its  opening  recital  of  the  birth  of   Jesus. 

These  two  gospels  therefore  recite  the  story  of  the  birth  of 
Christ,  not  for  the  purpose  of  giving  complete  accounts,  but  with 
the  aim  of  selecting  those  events  which  contributed  to  their  recital 
of  his  public  life.  Yet,  when  their  narratives  are  compared,  no 
contradiction  exists  "between  them.  It  is  sometimes  alleged, 
indeed,  that  Matthew  makes  Joseph  a  resident  of  Bethlehem  and 
^  Hist,  of  Jewish  People,  etc.,  Eng.  Tr.  Div.  I,  Vol.  II,  105-143. 
--Expositor,  September  1896,  p.  198-     Cf-  also  Zahn,  Neiie  Kirchliche  Zeitschrift, 

1893,  8- 

3  See  Bishop  Alexander's  Leading  Ideas  of  the  Gospels,  IV. 


430  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

his  later  settlement  in  Xa/.areth  only  the  result  of  his  fear  of 
Archelaus.  But  this  is  a  needless  interpretation.  Matthew 
simply  does  not  state  where  Joseph  was  when  the  annunciation 
was  made  to  him.  After  Jesus  was  born,  it  would  be  most 
natural  for  the  parents  to  assume  that  their  child  should  be  raised 
in  the  city  of  his  father  David  whose  throne  he  was  to  inherit. 
Hence  their  intention  of  returning  from  Egypt  to  Judea  is  easily 
understood.  But  when  it  was  made  evident  that  God  wished 
them  not  to  return  thither,  they  naturally  sought  the  Galilean 
town  where,  as  Luke  informs  us,  they  had  previously  resided. 
Neither  is  Luke  2  :  39  exclusive  of  the  sojourn  in  Egypt,  although 
it  is  probable  that  the  visit  of  the  Magi  and  the  flight  which 
followed  should  be  located  after  the  presentation  in  the  temple. 
Still  less  should  objection  be  raised  to  the  double  annunciation 
of  the  birth  or  to  the  statements  that  both  to  Joseph  and  Mary 
the  name  "Jesus"  was  given  by  the  angels  to  the  Child.  Both 
Joseph  and  Mary  ecjualh^  needed  a  revelation  on  the  subject. 
The  two  gospels  therefore  harmonize  in  their  details  and  agree 
in  the  larger  facts  of  the  Davidic  heirshij)  of  Jesus,  his  miraculous 
conception,  and  his  birth  in  Bethlehem.  Their  differences  are 
fuUv  explicable  by  the  jjurposes  of  the  writers,  which  led  to  the 
selection  of  different  incidents  with  a  view  of  presenting  special 
aspects  of  the  events. 

At  the  same  time  these  narratives  are  obviously  independent. 
Their  agreement,  therefore,  proves  that  the  facts,  as  gleaned 
from  them  both,  were  the  common  belief  of  the  apostolic 
Christians.  We  have  already  observed  that  neither  evangelist  is 
at  [)ains  to  prove  or  to  elaborate  the  facts  but  only  to  exhibit 
their  religious  significance.  This  indicates  that  the  facts  them- 
selves were  accepted  in  the  apostolic  age  without  disjjute.  The 
entire  absence  from  both  narratives  of  such  fanciful  details  as 
appear  even  so  early  as  in  the  epistles  of  Ignatius'  (A.  D.  i  10),  and 
still  more  in  the  ai)ocry])hal  gospels,  further  assures  us  tiiat  we  are 
not  dealing  with  the  products  of  j)i()us  imagination  but  with  the 
sober  testimony  of  the  earliest  period.  Moret^ver,  the  Jewish 
Christian  origin  of  both   accounts   is  e\idcnt.       The  story,  therc- 

'  /',/.  lo  the  /■.f>/ifsi(nis,  19. 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BIRTH  43  I 

fore,  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  legend  due  to  the  influence  of 
Gentile  ideas  upon  Christian  tradition.  It  must  be  accepted  as 
part  of  the  original  apostolic  testimony  :  and  since  the  notion  of 
a  God-begotten  man  was  utterly  foreign  to  Jewish  thought,'  the 
Jewish  Christian  origin  of  the  narratives  becomes  a  cogent 
evidence  of  their  historical  value.  The  suggestion,  e.  g.,  of 
Holtzmann,^  that  the  legend  arose  out  of  an  Essenic  antipathy  to 
marriage,  is  utterly  incredible,  first,  because  these  very  gospel 
narratives  conspicuously  honor  marriage,  and,  secondly,  because 
in  the  Old  Testament,  whose  influence  appears  so  strong  through- 
out the  story,  marriage  and  offspring  were  regarded  as  an  honor 
to  Hebrew  women.  Finally,  the  incorporation  of  the  story  in 
Luke's  gospel  attests  that  it  was  also  the  common  belief  of 
Gentile  Christians  too.  The  preface  to  that  gospel  assures  us 
that  the  evangelist  believed  himself  to  be  introducing  no  novel- 
ties. He  desired  to  give  Theophilus  a  full  and  orderly  account 
of  the  things  in  which  the  latter  had  already  been  instructed. 
Hence  there  should  be  no  hesitation  in  admitting  that  among  the 
apostolic  Christians,  both  Jewish  and  Gentile,  the  belief  in  the 
facts  concerning  the  birth  of  Jesus,  as  these  are  given  in  our 
gospels,  was  general. 

With  that  class  of  objections  to  the  gospel  story  of  Christ's 
birth  which  arises  from  disbelief  in  the  miraculous,  we  are  not 
here  concerned.  Such  criticism  is  to  be  met  on  philosophical, 
rather  than  historical,  grounds.  But  objections  to  the  story  are 
often  drawn  from  the  silence  elsewhere  upon  this  subject  of  the 
New  Testament  itself.  We  are  reminded,  for  instance,  that 
Christ  never  alluded  to  his  miraculous  birth  or  to  his  birth  in 
Bethlehem,  though  both  would  have  been  reasons  for  believing 
in  him  as  Messiah.  He  was  known  as  the  Nazarene,  and  the 
Carpenter's  Son  (Matt.  13:55;  Luke  4  :  22  ;  John  i  :  45).  The 
earliest  disciples  betray  no  knowledge  of  the  story  of  his  birth 
(John  I  :  45);  neither  do  the  people  of  Nazareth  (Matt.  13:55; 
Mark  6:3;   Luke  4  :  22)  nor  of   Galilee  in  general  (John  6  :  42), 

'  See   Stanton's  Jewish    and   Christian    Messiah,   p.    377.     Drummond's  Jeiv. 
Mess.,  p.  294. 

^  Hatid  Kommentar. 


432  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

nor  the  peoi)le  at  Jerusalem  (John  7  :  27),  nor  their  rulers  (John 
7:42-52).  In  explaining  his  power  he  never  appealed  to  his  mirac- 
ulous birth,  but  to  the  spirit  with  which  he  was  filled  {e.g.  Matt. 
12  :  28),  or  to  the  Father  who  was  with  and  in  him  (John  5  :  36  ; 
14  :  10).  Still  farther,  the  language  and  conduct  of  his  mother  and 
family  have  been  deemed  inconsistent  with  the  story  of  his  birth. 
Mary's  surprise  when  she  found  him  in  the  temple  (Luke  2  :  48) ; 
still  more  her  apparent  interruption  of  his  work  (Mark  12  :  46); 
the  belief  of  his  friends  that  he  was  beside  himself  (Mark  3:21), 
and  the  unbelief  of  his  brethren  in  his  Messiahship  (John  7:  5) 
appear  to  some  incompatible  with  knowledi^e  of  his  miraculous 
birth  or  of  the  angelic  annunciations  with  which  it  is  said  to 
have  been  attended.  But  it  may  be  said  in  reply  that  any  public 
appeal  by  Jesus  for  faith  on  the  ground  of  his  birth  would  have 
been  useless  as  well  as  injurious  to  the  chief  purpose  of  his 
ministry;  useless,  because  none  would  have  believed  it,  and  it 
would  only  have  aroused  the  tongue  of  slander  to  impeach  his 
mother  as  well  as  himself;  injurious,  because  his  determined 
purpose  was  to  evoke  a  faith  based  on  sympathy  with  his  ethical 
and  religious  teaching,  not  on  mere  wonder  at  his  miraculous 
deeds.  The  latter,  indeed,  were  credentials,  but  not  because  of 
their  miraculous  character  alone,  but  because  of  their  ethical 
character  also  (see,  ^.^••.,  Matt.  12:24-32;  John  10  :  24-26) .  It 
would  therefore  have  been  wholly  out  of  keeping  with  his  method 
to  have  appealed  to  a  fact  which  not  only  was  not  a  public  one 
but  was  one  whose  religious  significance  only  api:)ears  in  the  light 
of  a  complete  knowledge  of  his  person  and  work.  As  to  his 
mother,  we  are  expressly  told  that  she  "kept  all  these  things 
and  pondered  them  in  her  heart"  (Luke  2:19).  The  child's 
life  of  (juiet  obedience  fully  accounts  for  her  surprise  at  finding 
him  in  the  temple,  and  her  very  awe  over  his  origin,  combined 
with  the  evident  mystery  that  attended  his  mission  as  well  as 
with  the  dangers  that  had  threatened  him  in  his  infancy,  wouUl 
lead  her  and  Josejjh  to  preserve  their  secret  in  silence,  not  speak- 
ing of  it  at  first  even  in  the  family  circle  itself.  There  is  nothing 
whatever  to  show  that  Mary  ever  doubted  his  Messiahshijx  Her 
language  at  the  wedding  at  Cana  (John  2  :  3,  5)  distinctly  implies 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BIRTH  433 

the  contrary.  On  the  other  hand,  the  claim  of  Davidic  sonship 
appears  universally  known  ;  since  this  rested,  as  Matthew  shows, 
on  his  being  known  as  Joseph's  son  and  heir. 

But  we  are  further  reminded  that  according  to  the  Acts  and 
the  epistles,  the  apostles,  when  the  time  for  the  preaching  of 
Jesus  came,  do  not  appear  ever  to  have  alluded  to  his  mirac- 
ulous birth  or  to  his  birth  in  Bethlehem ;  still  less  do  they 
appeal  to  it ;  while  the  rise  of  the  legend  can  be  explained, 
it  is  said,  on  dogmatic  grounds.  It  may  be  questioned,  indeed, 
whether  the  language  of  Paul,  "born  of  a  woman"  (Gal.  4:4). 
especially  when  taken  in  connection  with  the  following  phrase, 
"made  under  the  law,"  does  not  imply  familiarity  with  the 
narrative  given  in  Luke  of  Christ's  birth  and  infancy;  but  we 
are  not  anxious  to  press  the  point.'  It  is  sufficient  to  observe 
that  neither  in  their  preaching,  any  more  than  in  that  of  Christ 
himself,  was  the  story  of  his  birth  fitted  to  serve  the  purpose 
of  proof  of  his  Messiahship.  That  needed  a  public  fact, 
attested  by  witnesses,  and  this  was  found  in  his  resurrection. 
Neither  was  it  the  purpose  of  the  epistles  to  relate  the  story 
of  his  life.  The  allusions  in  them  to  his  deeds  on  earth  and  even 
to  his  teaching  are  comparativel)'  few.  It  implies,  therefore,  an 
entire  misapprehension  of  the  purposes  and  needs  of  apostolic 
testimony,  and  is  an  unwarrantable  use  of  the  argument  from 
silence,  to  discredit  the  narratives  of  the  evangelists  by  the 
absence  of  reference   elsewhere  to  their  story  of  Christ's  birth. 

Nor  can  the  rise  of  the  story  be  fairly  attributed  to  dogmatic 
tendencies.  We  have  already  observed  that  its  Jewish  Christian 
origin  precludes  the  explanation  of  it  as  a  myth.  Its  rise  out 
of  dogmatical  influences  likewise  cannot  be  shown.  Here  the 
silence  of  the  epistles  does  become  significant.  The  onl}- 
known  dogmatic  tendencies  which  could  have  produced  the 
story,  were  desire  to  establish  the  divinity  of  Christ,  or  his 
sinlessness,  or  Paul's  doctrine  of  the  second  Adam.  But  these 
doctrines  are  maintained  and  defended  in  the  epistles  without 
any  reference  to  the  miraculous  birth  and  wholly  on  other 
grounds.      There  is,  therefore,  absence  of  proof,  just  where  proof 

'  See  also  Rev.  13  :  i,  etc. 


434  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

might  be  expected,  that  belief  in  these  doctrines  led  to  the  con- 
struction of  the  evangelic  story.  That  story,  as  we  glean  it 
from  the  first  and  third  evangelists,  carries  us  back  historically 
to  the  heart  of  the  apostolic  age,  and  has  no  reasonable  explana- 
tion except  that  it  records  the  general  belief  of  the  apostolic 
Christians.  It  would  seem  to  be  only  the  fair  conclusion  that, 
in  this  matter  as  in  regard  to  other  incidents  of  Christ's  life, 
their  belief  rested,  as  Luke  expressly  says  his  did,  on  the  testi- 
mony of  those  who  "from  the  beginning  were  eyewitnesses  and 
ministers  of  the  word." 

But  must  we  not  admire  the  delicacy  of  touch  with  which 
the  outlines  and  principal  features  of  the  story  are  recorded? 
There  is  no  coarse  attempt  to  satisfy  vulgar  curiosity.  There  is 
no  effort  to  portray  the  miracle  in  glaring  colors  or  with  fantas- 
tic detail.  The  permanent,  religious  value  of  the  facts  is  kept 
in  the  foreground.  Yet  how  appropriate  is  the  setting  of  the 
story!  If  the  lowly  surroundings  of  the  Child  of  Bethlehem 
befitted  his  mission  as  the  Son  of  Man  and  Man  of  Sorrows,  so 
the  royalty  of  his  inheritance  and  the  homage  of  angels  and 
wise  men  befitted  his  kingship,  and  the  glowing  piety  of  the 
circle  amid  which  he  was  ushered  into  the  world  befitted  his  holy 
character  and  ])osition  as  the  j)romised  Redeemer  of  Israel. 
Where  was  it  appropriate  for  Messiah  to  be  born  except  in  the 
bosom  of  a  household  where  the  old  revelation  maintained  its 
power?  And  yet  he  was  not  the  product  of  that  household  nor 
of  Israel.  He  was  not  merely  the  perfect  fruit  of  Hebrew  faith 
and  culture.  He  was  more.  He  was  incarnate  God,  who  him- 
self assumed  a  human  nature.  What  then  was  more  api)ropriate 
than  that  his  entrance  into  ilcsh  should  be  supcrnatiu-al  ;  that 
even  the  piety  of  Israel  should  be  made  to  ap])ear  insufficient  to 
produce  him  ;  that  he  who  was  afterwards  to  be  known  as  the 
God-man  should  combine  in  the  \er\-  manner  of  his  birth  the 
indications  of  his  heaNcnU-  as  well  as  of  his  earthh-  origin? 


THE  HOME  OF  OUR  LORD'S  CHILDHOOD. 


By   Rev.  Professor  George  Adam  Smith,  D.D., 
Free  Church  College,  Glasgow. 


The  village  in  Israels  history. —  The  sitiiatio7i  of  Nazareth : —  lower 
Galilee ;  the  basin  in  ivhich  the  town  lies.  —The  view  from  the  hill. —  The 
great  roads.  —  The  me})iory  of  revolutions. 

Lr  is  remarkable  how  many  of  the  greatest  lives  in  Israel 
were  drawn  from  her  villages  or  from  the  still  more  obscure  and 
lonely  edges  of  the  desert.  Apparently  the  one  great  career 
which  sprang  from  the  capital  was  Isaiah's.  He,  wherever  born, 
was  Isaiah  of  Jerusalem  ;  rooted  and  grounded,  pervasive  and 
supreme,  within  those  walls  whose  security  he  maintained  to  the 
end  to  be  the  one  indispensable  basis  of  God's  kingdom  upon 
earth.  But  in  this  identification  with  the  city  Isaiah  was  alone. 
Jonah  came  from  Gath-hepher,  Amos  from  Tekoa,  Hosea  from 
some  part  of  Galilee  or  Gilead,  Micah  from  Moresheth  in  the 
Shephelah,  Nahum  from  Elkosh  (perhaps  another  village  of  the 
Shephelah  or  possibly  of  Galilee),  Jeremiah  from  Anathoth, 
John  the  Baptist^  from  the  deserts,  and  Jesus  Christ  from  Naza- 
reth—  a  village  so  unimportant  that  it  is  never  mentioned  in  the 
Old  Testament,  even  among  the  crowded  lists  of  the  tribal  bor- 
ders, very  close  to  one  of  which  it  must  have  lain,  and  so  desti- 
tute of  the  natural  conditions  of  a  great  city  that,  with  all  the 
religious  distinction  which  came  to  it  nineteen  centuries  ago, 
Nazareth  has  never  grown  beyond  a  few  thousandjnhabitants. 

The  site  and  surroundings  of  Nazareth  have  been  so  often 
described  that  it  is  impossible  to  add  another  account  which 
shall  not  be  for  the  most  part  a  repetition.  I  shall  perhaps  best 
fulfil  the  task  assigned  me  if  I  first  give  the  impressions,  shared 
by  so  many  travelers,  of  the  secluded  basin  in  which  the  village 
lies,  and  of  the  broad  views  opening  from  the  edge  of  it,  and  if  I 

435 


436  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

then  add  the  particular  features  of  the  district  which  two  visits 
have  emphasized  on  niv  own  mind. 

Between  the  plain  of  Esdraelon  and  the  sudden  range  that 
lifts  upper  Galilee  to  a  high  tableland,  lower  Galilee  consists  of 
three  or  four  parallel  vallevs  running  eastward  from  the  Levant 
to  Gennesaret  and  the  Jordan.  It  is  a  limestone  country,  too 
porous  for  large  streams,  but  with  a  soil  and  a  rainfall  sufficient 
for  considerable  fertilitv.  It  is  full  of  thriving  villages,  but 
without  the  occasions  of  a  large  citv,  excc})t  at  the  seacoast  or 
beside  the  lake.  The  long  valleys,  however,  and  their  position 
between  the  Fhcenician  seaports  and  the  busy  Greek  life  across 
Jordan,  gathered  in  our  Lord's  day  a  large  volume  of  traffic,  to 
guard  which  fortresses  and  other  military  posts  were  easily 
raised  on  the  crags  and  ridges  that  are  scattered  across  the 
whole  region.  Lower  Galilee  was  thus  an  intensified  miniature 
of  all  Palestine.  Scores  of  villages,  too  humble  and  aloof  to 
attract  the  armies  or  caravans  which  crossed  that  central  land  in 
almost  constant  procession,  nevertheless  afforded  to  their  rest- 
less inhabitants  a  view  of  the  great  world  from  the  Mediter- 
ranean to  Arabia,  with  all  the  tokens  which  the  former  offers  of 
a  still  greater  world  beyond,  and  granted  them  an  almost  imme- 
diate issue  upon  the  courses  of  some  of  the  main  currents  of  his- 
torv.  Nazareth  occupied  one  of  these  withdrawn,  yet  wonder- 
fuUv  ojjen,  positions  ;  rather  more  hidden  from  the  outer  land 
than  most  of  her  sister  villages,  but  within  an  hour  of  the  world's 
highways  that  ran  across  the  land. 

Nazareth  lies  upon  the  most  southerly  of  the  ranges  of 
lower  Galilee,  just  above  the  plain  of  Esdraelon  and  over 
against  the  .Samarian  hills.  It  is  almost  the  first  Galilean  vil- 
lage which  the  traveler  reaches  coming  north  through  the 
country. 

On  this  edge  of  Esdraelon,  which  is  here  some  350  feet 
above  the  sea,  the  hills  rise  abru])tly  for  900  or  lOOO  feet  more. 
You  pierce  them  bv  a  narrow  and  winding  pass,  which,  on  the 
other  side  of  their  first  summits,  suddenh-  breaks  upon  the  lower 
end  of  a  valley,  a  shallow,  tilted  basin  among  the  hills.  At  the 
uj)pcr,    the   western,    end  of  this   vallcv,   which    is   about  a  mile 


438  THE  BIBLICAL   IVORLD 

long  and  half  a  mile  broad,  the  town  of  En  Nasara  spreads  up  a 
steep  slope  crowned  by  the  highest  summit  of  the  district,  the 
Neby  Sa'in,  with  a  small  chapel  to  the  Moslem  saint  after  whom 
it  is  named.  The  ancient  Nazareth  j^robably  hung  a  little 
higher  up  the  hill,  but  still  within  touch  of  the  one  well  of  the 
neighborhood,  that  springs  in  the  center  of  the  modern  town. 
The  white  houses  of  Kn  Nasara  are  partly  visible  from  one  or 
two  points  across  the  plain  on  the  slopes  of  Little  Hermon,* 
but  from  nowhere  else  outside  the  basin.  The  trunk  road 
crosses  Esdraelon  near  the  mouth  of  the  winding  gorge  that 
leads  up  to  the  village,  but  the  caravans  swing  sleepily  past 
unaware  of  its  existence.  From  the  north  it  is  wholly  shut  off 
by  the  ridge  of  Neby  Sa'in.  So  also,  if  I  remember  aright,  the 
view  from  the  village  itself  is,  excej^t  for  a  glimpse  or  two, 
limited  to  the  basin. 

The  basin  in  which  Nazareth  lies  is  drv  and  grav.  There 
are  a  few  gardens  below  the  town  and  some  trees  around,  and 
especially  above  it.  All  the  rest  is  limestone  rock  and  chalky 
soil,  with  the  glare  of  summer  dulled  by  the  sparse  grass  and 
thistle,  very  cheerless  in  wet  or  dark  weather,  but  in  spring 
flushing  into  great  patches  of  wild  flowers.  It  is  a  quiet  hollow 
under  an  oj^en  heaven,  a  home  with  all  its  fields  in  sight,  keep- 
ing the  music  of  its  life  to  itself.  To  the  shepherd  watching 
from  the  hill  each  of  the  few  village  houses  must  have  been 
marked  :  the  teacher's,  those  of  the  various  elders,  the  SNiia- 
gogue,  the  inn,  the  baker's  shop,  and  the  carpenter's  ;  here  the 
noisy  groups  about  the  well,  there  the  children  jjlaying  on  the 
street;  there  would  hardlv  be  a  marketplace.  Outside  there 
were  the  village  graves,  the  threshing  floors,  the  rubbish  heaps,  the 
rocky  paths  with  their  very  occasional  travelers  ;  flowers,  trees, 
and  birds,  the  sheej)  and  goats,  j)erhaps  a  bird  of  j)rev  sailing 
lazilv  over,  or  a  fox  stealing  in  the  nooncKn-  stillness  across  the 
gray  hillside. 

But  climb  to  the  edge  of  tlu'  basin,  clinib  especially  to  the 
ridge  of  Neby  Sa'in  above  the  village,  and  this  {|uiet,  self-con- 
tained \alley,  that  from  its  center  sees  heaven  covering  nothing 

'  Si- 1  III'.KI.ANI)  :    rnlrUim-:   tlif   (i/oiy  of  nil  /.<iii,h.    I  |()  f. 


THE  HOME  OF  OUR  LORD'S  CHILDHOOD 


439 


but  its  own  fields,  shrinks  to  a  furrow  in  a  vast  and  crowded 
world  ;  vast,  because  besides  mere  widths  of  horizon  there  are 
in  view  almost  every  zone  of  nature,  from  the  great  sea  and  the 
shores  where  palms  grow  to  the  everlasting  shows  of  Hermon  ; 
and    crowded    because    history    has     seldom     brought     together 


GENERAL  VIEW  FROM  NAZARETH 


within  such  a  compass  so  many  famous  homes,  altars,  and  battle- 
fields, nor  opened  more  promises  (such  as  only  open  across  the 
Mediterranean)  of  magic  isles  and  coasts  beyond.  Hermon 
fills  the  northeast,  and  the  hills  of  Galilee  are  piled  against  him. 
You  see  the  hills  of  Bashan  on  the  other  side  of  the  gulf,  where 
the  hidden  lake  lies  ;  the  long  range  of  Gilead  above  the  Jordan 
valley  ;  nearer  to  you  Tabor,  where  Barak  camped,  and  Little 
Hermon,  with  Endor  and  Shunem  on  opposite  slopes;  Gilboa, 
with  Jezreel  and  Gideon's  fountain  ;  Naboth's  vineyard,  and  the 
scene  of  Jezebel's  murder  ;  Elisha's  lodging,  and  the  course  of 
Elijah's  race    with    Ahab's    chariot ;   Esdraelon,   with   its  twenty 


440  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

battlefields  ;  the  Samarian  hills  and  their  passes  southward  ;  the 
jjlace  of  Elijah's  sacrifice  on  Carmel,  and  the  high  green  prom- 
ontory running  thence  out  upon  the  radiance  of  the  sea ;  or, 
if  you  turn  northwards,  there  are  the  hills  above  Acre,  and, 
drawing  home  again,  the  j)lain  of  Buttauf,  with  the  road  from 
Acre  to  the  lake  ;  and  on  this  side  of  the  plain  Sepphoris,  the 
ancient  capital  of  Galilee,  with  its  ruined  castle  on  a  hilltop.  It 
is  a  maj)  of  Jewish  history,  spread  within  sight  of  half  a  dozen 
points  that  the  boys  of  Nazareth  might  have  visited  daily. 

All  this  is  familiar  to  us  through  the  impressions  of  many 
travelers  ;  but  across  the  landscape  there  are  certain  lines  which 
I  failed  to  realize  till  I  saw  them,  with  my  own  eyes  and  trod 
them  with  my  feet.  There  are  the  roads,  whose  direction  in  the 
East  is  so  changeless  that  upon  their  faint  or  less  frequented 
tracks  today  you  can  still  tread  reaches  of  Roman  causeway, 
and  call  up  again  the  noise  and  splendor  of  the  days  when 
Greece  and  Rome  poured  along  them  to  the  East  full  tides  of 
commerce  and  of  war.  There  is  a  list  of  them  within  sight  of 
the  hill  above  Nazareth. 

Immediately  across  Esdraelon,  there  oi)en  through  the 
Samarian  mountains  the  mouths,  a  dozen  miles  apart,  of  two 
great  passes  from  the  south:  that  by  Jenin,  or  'Engannim, 
and  that  by  Lejjun  or  Legion,  which  was  Megiddo.  The 
former  is  the  beginning  of  the  "Anabaseis  to  the  hill-countr}-"' 
of  Samaria  and  Judaea,  the  road  to  Shechem  and  Jerusalem. 
The  latter  is  the  pass  from  Sharon  to  Esdraelon,  by  which  the 
high  road  comes  over  from  Philistia  and  Egypt.  Issuing  on  the 
j>lain,  these  roads  meet  about  six  miles  from  Nazareth  and  {pass- 
ing below  her  hills  swing  off  between  them  and  Tabor  towards 
the  north  end  of  the  lake  for  Damascus  and  Mesopotamia. 
Twenty  minutes'  walk  from  Nazareth  will  bring  you  immctliately 
above  this  road.  A  more  distant  branch  of  it,  miles  of  which 
run  within  sight  of  the  same  point,  swerves  from  Jezreel  to  the 
other  side  of  Little  Hermon  and  Tabor;  while  a  third  branch 
fr(jm  Junin  crosses  Gilboa  to  Hcthshan  and  the  Jordan.  All 
these  roads  carried  cara\ans  between    l^gvpt   and    Mesojiotamia, 

■  \\.  K.  of  Jiifiith  III. 


THE  HOME  OF  OUR  LORD'S  CHILDHOOD 


441 


between  the  coast  and  Arabia,  and  Roman  armies  marched  by 
them  from  C^esarea  to  the  Decapolis,  or  the  militar)'  posts  on 
the  Lake  of  Galilee  ;  it  was  by  the  opening  of  Jenin  that  pil- 
grims returned  to  Galilee  from  the  feasts  at  Jerusalem.     Those 


JExNIN 

citizens  of  Nazareth  who  had  remained  at  home  would  come  out 
to  the  edge  of  the  hills  and  watch  their  friends  crossing  from 
En-gannim.  And  this  way  Jesus  himself  must  often  have  trav- 
eled after  he  was  twelve  years  old.  The  pilgrim  bands,  when 
they  left  Jenin ,  would  anxiously  scan  the  plain  for  caravans 
crossing  it  from  Lejjun,  and  pause  awhile  if  they  saw  the  lances 
of  a  troop  of  Roman  soldiers  making  for  the  same  angle  as  them- 
selves. They  might  also  encounter  caravans  of  Egyptian  mer- 
chants and  camel  trains  from  eastern  Palestine.  Esdraelon  (it 
cannot  be  too  often  repeated)  was  one  of  the  great  highways  of 
the  ancient  world. 


442  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

All  this  hi\-  in  sii^ht  of  the  Nazareth  hills  to  the  south,  but 
from  the  summit  behind  the  village  an  equally  important  road 
was  in  view  to  the  north.  Four  and  a  half  miles  away,  beyond 
Sepphoris,  a  city  set  on  a  hill,  ran  the  highroad  from  Ptolemais, 
or  Acre,  to  Tiberias,  the  Decapolis  and  the  Roman  frontier 
towards  Arabia.  Nearer  still  ran  parallel  to  this  a  less  fre- 
(]uented  road  through  Sepphoris  itself  from  which  a  branch  cut 
down  past  Nazareth  upon  the  Esdraelon  roads.  Realize  that 
Ptolemais,  only  twenty-one  miles  from  Nazareth,  was  one  of  the 
two  great  ports  through  which  })asscd  out  and  in  nearly  all  the 
commerce  between  northern  Palestine  and  Greece  and  Italy  ;  and 
that  at  the  other  end  of  these  roads  was  already  flourishing  the 
Greek  culture  which  produced  so  manv  jjhilosophers,  poets,  and 
wits  in  Gadara  and  other  trans-Jordanic  cities.  Realize,  too,  the 
constant  erfort  which  these  cities  made  to  hold  communication 
with  Athens  and  Rome,  and  how  the  capital  of  the  empire  kept 
in  lively  touch  with  its  eastern  frontier.  Remember  Pliny's  and 
Strabo's  accounts  of  the  herbs,  the  balsam,  the  dates  and  the 
fla.x  from  the  Jordan  valley,  the  pickled  fish  from  the  lake,  and 
the  wheat  from  Hauran,  which  found  their  wav  to  Ptolemais  for 
shi])ment  all  round  the  Mediterranean.  "The  Roman  ranks,  the 
Roman  eagles,  the  wealth  of  noblemen's  litters  and  ecjuijjagcs 
cannot  ha\e  been  strange  to  the  eves  of  the  boys  of  Nazareth, 
especiallv  after  their  twelfth  year,  when  they  went  up  to  Jerusa- 
lem, or  visited  with  their  fathers  famous  rabbis,  who  came  down 
from  Jerusalem,  peripatetic  among  the  provinces.  Nor  can  it 
have  been  the  eye  only  which  was  stirred.  For  all  the  rumor 
of  the  empire  entered  Palestine  close  to  Nazareth  —  the  news 
from  Rome  about  the  emperor's  health,  about  the  changing 
influence  of  the  great  statesmen,  about  the  prospects  at  court  of 
Herod  or  of  the  Jews ;  about  Caesar's  last  order  concerning  the 
tribute,  or  whether  the  policy  of  the  procurator  would  be  sus- 
tained. Many  (ialilean  families  must  have  had  relatives  in 
Rome;  Jews  would  come  back  to  this  countryside  to  tell  of  the 
life  of  the  world's  capital.  MoreoN  er,  the  scandals  of  the  1  ierods 
buzzed  up  and  down  these  roads  ;  peddlers  carried  them,  and  the 
perij)atetic    rabbis    would    moralize    upon   the!ii.      The  customs, 


THE  HOME  OF  OUR  LORD'S  CHILDHOOD  443 

too,  of  the  neighboring  Gentiles  —  their  loose  living,  their  sen- 
suous worship,  their  absorption  in  business,  the  hopelessness  of 
the  inscriptions  on  their  tombs,  multitudes  of  which  were  read- 
able (as  some  are  still)  on  the  roads  around  Galilee  —  all  this 
would  furnish  endless  talk  in  Nazareth  both  among  men  and 
boys." 

But  wilder  things  than  these  happened  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Nazareth  when  our  Lord  was  spending  his  childhood  there. 
Just  before  the  time  when  according  to  the  gospels  the  parents 
of  Jesus  brought  him  to  the  village,  there  had  been  a  rebellion 
near  Sepphoris.  Judas,  son  of  that  rebel,  Hezekiah,  whom 
Herod  hardly  overcame,  gathered  a  number  of  Galileans  (among 
whom  there  may  easily  have  been  a  man  or  two  of  Nazareth) 
and  stripped  the  castle  of  Sepphoris  of  arms.  Josephus  adds 
that  this  Judas  was  very  ambitious  of  being  made  king.'  Varus 
gathered  an  army  at  Ptolemais,  burned  Sepphoris,  making  man}^ 
of  its  people  slaves,  and  then  marched  on  Samaria;^  his  nearest 
road  was  past  Nazareth.  Sepphoris  was  rebuilt  by  Herod 
Antipas,  who  also,  during  the  years  Jesus  spent  in  obscurity  at 
Nazareth,  built  Tiberias,  and  by  all  the  roads  of  Galilee  swept 
foreigners,  tramps,  and  rascals  to  a  site  which  as  yet  no  Jew  would 
tread.  The  flames  of  rebellion  had  not  been  quenched  by  Varus. 
Judas  still  lived, 3  and  "Galilean"  himself  kept  fretting  the 
spirit  of  all  his  province.  About  the  tenth  year  of  our  Lord  the 
revolt  broke  out  afresh.  There  must  then  have  been  much  com- 
ing and  going  between  Jerusalem  and  Galilee  ;  Nazareth,  one 
of  the  most  southerly  of  Galilean  villages  and  so  near  Sep- 
phoris, was  doubtless  aware  of  some  of  it.  In  the  great  war  fifty 
years  later  the  first  blow  for  independence  was  struck  close  by, 
at  Dabaritta,  and  you  understand  why  when  you  see  the  stra- 
tegic position  of  the  district,  round  the  corner  of  the  plain,  with 
gorges  running  up  through  the  Nazareth  hills.  These  earlier 
rebels,  therefore,  of  our  Lord's  youth,  can  hardly  have  kept  the 
neighborhood  of  Nazareth  out  of  their  restless  plans  against  the 

'  Josephus  AfiL  xvii :  10  :  5  :  c^.  Wars  n  :  4  :  i.     ^  Josephus  Ant.  xvn  :  10:9,  10. 

3  On  the  identity  of  Judas,  son  of  Hezekiah,  with  Judas  the  Galilean,  see  Schurer, 
/list.  I,  ii  :  80. 


444  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

Roman  forces.  The  movement,  too,  was  mixed  with  feelings 
which  must  have  drawn  into  it  not  only  the  rough  bandits  of  the 
province,  with  no  ambition  save  that  of  license  disguised  as  free- 
dom, but  manv  of  the  purest  and  most  patriotic  villagers  of  Gali- 
lee. Judas  rose  against  the  Gentiles  in  the  name  of  religion. 
But  this  again  turned  him  more  readily  on  the  moderate  men  of 
his  own  people.  The  pitiless  party  of  the  Zealots  was  formed. 
There  were  many  robberies,  and  assassinations  of  prominent  and 
respected  Jews.'  Nor  were  the  motives  of  the  leaders  above 
suspicion.  Josephus  says  they  fought  for  gain,  and  Judas  prob- 
ably still  dreamed  of  a  crown.  The  revolt,  therefore,  collapsed. 
Before  the  nation  was  kindled,  the  Romans  scattered  the  sparks 
and  they  fell  out  of  sight,  to  smoulder  on  in  many  places  till  they 
fired  the  great  conflagration  half  a  century  later.  One  wonders 
if  any  of  these  sparks  were  thrown  into  Nazareth.  Certainly  the 
selfish  sectarian  and  tyrannical  spirit  of  the  movement,  ending 
in  so  abject  a  failure,  cannot  have  missed  judgment  in  her  {|uiet 
homes.  In  Judas  and  his  fellows  the  righteous  must  have  seen 
how  it  was  possible  for  a  man  to  aim  at  the  whole  world  and  lose 
his  own  soul. 

'  Atit.  XVIII  :  I  :  I. 


JEWISH   FAMILY   LIFE. 


By  Ernest  D.  Burton, 
The  University  of  Chicago. 


Marriage.— The  house.— Furniture. —  Monogamy  and  divorce.— Superi- 
ority of  Jewish  to  heathen  morals.—  The  coming  of  the  child.  — The  instruction 
of  children.—  Household  duties.—  Hospitality. —  Feasts. 

.  Family  life  begins  with  marriage,  but  marriage  is  usually  pre- 
ceded by  betrothal,  and  betrothal  was  at  least  among  the  Jews 
of  the  later  time  a  matter  of  as  much  seriousness  and  solemnity 
as  marriage  itself.  In  earlier  days  it  was  apparently  accom- 
plished merely  by  oral  promises  comfirmed  perhaps  by  gifts  (Gen. 
24:50,  51  ;  29:  19);  there  is  no  mention  in  the  Old  Testament 
of  a  written  contract  of  betrothal.  But  in  later  times  betrothal 
became  a  formal  ceremony.  According  to  the  Mishna,  and  quite 
likely  as  early  as  the  first  century,  it  took  place  in  the  presence 
of  witnesses;  the  young  man  gave  to  his  prospective  bride 
some  token  or  written  promise  that  he  would  marry  her,  and  a  legal 
document  fixing  the  terms  of  the  marriage,  dowry,  etc.,  was  drawn 
up.  The  man  and  woman  were  then  as  sacredly  bound  to  each 
other  as  if  married.  Even  the  property  of  the  bride  belonged 
from  that  time  to  the  husband.  They  could  be  separated  only 
by  death  or  divorce.  It  is  in  entire  conformity  with  this  con- 
ception of  the  nature  of  betrothal  that  the  evangelist  speaking 
of  Joseph's  intention  to  dissolve  the  bond  between  himself  and 
his  betrothed  wife  uses  the  word  regularly  employed  for  divorc- 
ing a  wife  (Matt,  i  :  19). 

Marriage  itself  took  place,  according  to  the  Mishna,  a  year 
after  betrothal,  or  in  the  case  of  a  widow  a  month  after.  But  it 
can  hardly  be  assumed  that  this  was  at  any  time  a  rule  uniformly 
observed.  A  festal  procession  led  the  bride  from  her  father's 
house  to  that  of  her  husband  (i"  Mace.  9 -.37),  her  own  future 
home.     Yet  sometimes,  it  would  seem   from   Matt.  25:1,  10,  the 

445 


446  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

bridegroom  came  to  the  bride's  house  and  the  festivities  were 
held  there.  The  marriage  of  Tobias  also  took  place  at  the 
house  of  the  bride's  father  (Tob.  chaps.  7,  8). 

The  wedding  procession  was  wont  to  take  place  at  night 
(Matt.  25:1-6).  The  entrance  of  the  bride  into  the  house  of 
her  husband,  or  the  moment  when  bride  and  groom  met,  was 
regarded  as  the  moment  of  special  interest.  In  the  house  a  for- 
mal legal  instrument  was  drawn  up  or  signed.  Mention  of  such 
a  contract  is  made  in  Tob,./:  14,  though  in  this  instance  betrothal 
and  marriage  are  scarcely  distinguishable.  Then  followed  the 
marriage  feast.  All  in  all  a  wedding  was  an  occasion  of  the 
greatest  rejoicing  and  festivity,  celebrated  with  music  and  feast- 
ing (Gen.  31 :  27  ;  I  Mace.  19  :  39  ;  John  2  :  3  ff. ;  r/.  Luke  i  5  :  25). 
In  his  answer  to  the  question  of  the  Pharisees  about  fasting, 
Jesus  refers  to  the  incongruity  of  anything  suggestive  of  sorrow 
at  a  marriage.  The  festivities  sometimes  continued  for  days 
(Judges  14:12;  Tob.  8:19).  There  was  no  definitely  appointed 
religious  service  in  connection  with  a  wedding,  the  nearest 
approach  to  it  being  the  blessing  pronounced  by  the  father  of 
one  or  of  each  of  the  young  people  (Tob.  7:  13). 

The  house  to  which  the  groom  took  his  bride  would  depend 
of  course  on  his  station  in  life  and  the  means  at  his  command. 
The  simjilest  form  of  house  consisted  of  a  single  square  room. 
The  walls  would  be  built  of  clay  or  of  sun-dried  brick  ;  stone  was 
used  only  in  the  neighborhood  of  mountains  or  for  the  more 
expensive  city  houses.  The  roof  would  be  of  straw  and  mud.  or 
mortar,  ashes,  etc.,  laid  upon  timbers  or  boughs,  and  rolled  flat 
and  hard.  .Surroimded  by  a  jjarapet  (Deut.  22:8),  it  could  be 
used  for  hanging  linen  or  drying  fruits,  or  as  a  place  of  retire- 
ment. It  was  on  the  housetop  that  Peter  sought  quiet  for  prayer 
(Acts  10:9).  Such  a  house  would  have  but  one  door,  and  the 
windows  would  be  latticed,  not  glazed,  and  small  so  as  to  exclude 
the  summer  heat  as  far  as  j)ossiblc.  Inside,  if  the  husband 
included  in  his  possession  a  few  sheep  or  goats,  there  would  be 
two  j)arts  of  the  room  on  different  le\cls.  The  lower  j)art  would 
be  used  for  the  animals  at  night,  and  the  up])er  part  —  not  an 
upper  story,  but  merely  one  side  of  tiie  room  with  a  higher  floor 


JEWISH  FAMILY  LIFE 


447 


than  the  other — for  the  family.  If  there  were  no  animals,  as 
would  often  be  the  case  in  the  towns,  or  there  were  so  many  that 
separate  provision 
was  made  for  them 
in  sheepfolds  out- 
side, the  whole  room 
would  be  given  up  to 
the  family.  But  in 
this  one  room  they 
would  all  live  by 
night  and  by  day. 
Separate  bedcham- 
bers (2  Sam.  4:7) 
were  to  be  found 
only  in  the  houses  of 
the  well-to-do.  The 
first  step  from  this 
simplest     possible 

form      of      a     house 

would  be  taken  when 

there     was     erected 

upon  the  flat  roof  a 

booth  of  boughs  for 

use  in  summer ;  and 

the    next     when     by 

means  of  a  more  or 

less    substantial    and 

permanent     roof 

placed     over     the 

whole    of    the    main 

flat  roof  of  the  house, 

or  by  the  erection  of 

a     walled     chamber 

over  a  portion  of  the 

roof  (2   Kings   4  :  2), 

a    permanent    upper 

room   was    obtained. 


MULLER- JOSEPH  AND  THE  BOY  JESUS 
See  page  471 


448  THE    BIBLICAL   WORLD 

Such  probably  were  the  upper  rooms  mentioned  in  Acts  1:13  and 
9-37»  39-  The  house  of  Simon  the  Tanner  apparently  did  not 
have  this  addition  (Acts  10:9).  When  such  a  room  existed  it 
often  had  two  exits,  one  through  the  house,  the  other  by  a  flight 
of  stairs  leading  directly  to  the  street.  Hence  one  fleeing  in 
haste  need  not  go  down  into  the  house  (Matt.  24  :  17). 

Of  course  there  were  houses  of  the  wealthy  and  of  royal  per- 
sonages that  differed  greatly  from  these  simpler  houses  of  the 
common  people.  Limestone  was  to  be  had  in  Palestine,  and 
from  it  those  who.  had  the  means  built  palaces  of  stone.  These 
were  constructed  around  a  court  or  even  had  a  series  of  courts, 
and  might  be  built  two  or  even  three  stories  in  height.  For  these 
houses  foreign  woods  were  imported,  though  probably  used  almost 
exclusively  for  interior  finish  (i  Kings,  chaps.  6,  7).  But  the 
common  people  dwelt  in  simple  and  detached  houses.  In  Rome 
there  were  in  ancient  times,  as  in  modern,  great  tenement  houses 
many  stories  in  height.  But  these  were  probably  not  to  be  seen 
in  Palestine  at  all. 

The  furniture  in  the  house  of  a  peasant  or  artisan  Jew  was  of 
the  simj)lest  kind.  The  table  might  be  high  or  low  according 
to  the  posture  which  the  family  were  wont  to  take  at  meals. 
In  ancient  times  it  was  the  custom  to  sit  at  table,  either  on  the 
floor  in  oriental  fashion,  or  on  a  seat  or  chair  (Gen.  27:  19; 
I  Sam.  20:24,  25;  2  Kings  4:  10).  Reclining  at  meals  was  evi- 
dentlv  at  first  associated  with  the  luxurious  living  brought  in 
from  foreign  countries  (Am.  6:4;  Sir.  41  :i9).  But  in  the  New 
Testament  time  it  was,  if  not  the  invariable  custom,  at  least  a 
very  common  habit.  The  words  used  for  the  position  in  eating 
are  all  such  as  denote  a  reclining  jjosturc  (Matt.  9:  10  ;  Mark 
6:22;  Luke  7:36;  9:14,  etc.).  In  addition  to  the  table  antl 
the  chairs  or  the  couches  (Mark  7:4,  R.  V.  marg.),  there  would 
be  the  lamp  stand,  the  l)ro(Mii,  the  mill  lor  grinding  grain,  the 
bushel,  and  the  ordinary  imj)lcmcnts  of  cooking.  The  poorer 
houses  probably  had  nothing  that  we  should  call  a  bedstead. 
The  very  poor  sim|)ly  wrapi)etl  themselves  in  lluir  cloaks,  and 
lav  on  the  clav  floor,  or  on  a  mat  wovi-n  ol  palm  leaves.  In 
some  cases  there  was  a  seat  or  ledire  aroiuid   the  room  or  at  one 


JEWISH  FA  MIL }  •  LIFE  449 

side,  on  which  at  night  mattresses  or  rugs  were  laid.  Even  in 
the  elegant  houses  of  Pompeii  there  is  along  one  side  of  the  tiny 
sleeping  rooms  a  ledge  of  masonry  which  evidently  served  as  a 
bedstead  or  the  basis  of  one.  We  read,  indeed,  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament of  couches  of  ivory  (Am.  6:4),  probably  a  species  of 
couch  or  divan  supported  by  ivory  legs,  and  intended  primarily 
for  use  at  meals.  On  such  a  couch  there  would  be  spread  rugs 
of  various  colors  and  textures  (Prov.  7:  16  ;  Ezek.  13:  18,  20; 
Am.  3:12).  In  this  matter  there  was  opportunity  for  luxury  and 
elegance  according  to  the  means  of  the  individual.  But  all 
these  things  are  expressly  mentioned  with  disapproval  as  articles 
of  elegance.  It  is  probable  that  none  of  them  were  to  be  found 
in  ordinary  homes  and  that  even  in  the  houses  of  the  wealthy 
the  furnishings  were,  except  perhaps  in  the  matter  of  drapings 
and  rugs,  such  as  would  seem  to  our  modern  taste  simple  and 
even  plain.  The  rooms  were  warmed,  if  at  all,  only,  as  is  still 
common  in  southern  climates,  with  a  charcoal  fire  in  a  brazier 
set  in  the  midst  of  the  room  (Jer.  36  :  22  f.;  John  18:18;  R.  V. 
marg.).  Pictures  and  statuary,  as  forbidden  by  the  law  (Ex. 
20:4),  would  not  be  seen  in  the  house  of  a  loyal  Jew  at  all. 
Books,  though  by  no  means  forbidden,  were  rare,  and  confined, 
except  perhaps  in  the  case  of  the  more  cultivated  Jews  of  the 
later  time  who  had  come  under  Greek  influence,  almost  wholly  to 
copies  of  a  portion  of  the  Scriptures.  The  reference  in  i  Mace. 
I  :  56,  57  to  the  attempt  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes  to  destroy  all 
copies  of  the  Jewish  Scriptures,  "wheresoever  was  found  with 
any  a  book  of  the  covenant,"  indicates  that  even  in  that  time 
copies  of  portions  of  the  Scriptures  were  to  be  found  in  private 
hands.  Yet  how  common  this  was  is  difificult  to  say.  Whether 
there  was  in  the  Nazareth  home  of  Jesus  a  copy  oF  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, or  whether  he  had  access  only  to  the  synagogue  copy, 
we  cannot  say  with  certainty.  Certain  it  is  that  he  was  a  diligent 
reader  and  profound  student  of  the  Old  Testament. 

The  position  of  the  wife  in  a  Jewish  home  was  on  the  whole 
a  high  and  honorable  one.  Monogamy  was  probably  always  the 
general  rule  among  the  Israelites.  The  patriarchs,  indeed,  and 
some  of  the  kings  had  more  than  one   wife  ;  some  of   the  latter 


450  THE  BIHLICAL   WORLD 

had  manv.  Hut  though  the  hiu  assunictl  the  possibility  ot  l>olgy- 
aniv,  both  the  law  and  the  propiietic  teaching  tended  to  check 
it  and  to  mitigate  its  evils.  (See  Ex.  2i:8;  Dent.  21:  I5ff., 
17:17;  Mai.  2:14).  The  capital  j^assage  in  Gen.  2:24  is  essen- 
tially monogamous  in  spirit,  and  is  made  still  more  so  in  the  form 
it  assumes  in  the  Septuagint,  "they  two  shall  become  one  flesh," 
which  is  also  the  form  in  which  Jesus  quotes  it.  And  though 
neither  in  the  New  Testament  period  nor  for  a  long  time  after 
did  j)olvgamv  wholh'  cease  among  the  Jews  (see  Jos.,  Ant.  17: 
I  ;  2,  3  ;  if.  Ginsburg,  art.  on  Marriage  in  Kitto's  Cyclop.  ; 
Schiirer,  Jewish  People,  I,  I,  455),  it  does  not  seem  to  have  been 
common.  Neither  Jesus  nor  Paul  found  occasion  to  deal  directly 
with  it.  In  a  Jewish  home  of  the  first  centur\-  there  was  usually 
but  one  wife,  who,  though  her  marriage  may  have  been  arranged 
more  bv  her  father's  judgment  than  by  her  own  preference,  was 
yet  the  object  of  her  husband's  untlivitled  lo\c.  In  one  respect, 
indeed,  her  j)osition  was  far  from  ideal.  The  law  ga\e  to  the 
husband  the  right  of  j^utting  away  his  wife  if  he  found  "some 
unseemly  thing"  in  her.  The  interj)retati()n  of  this  \ague  phrase 
was,  as  is  well  known,  a  li\'ing  (jucstion  in  the  first  centurw 
The  famous  Rabbi  Hillel  had  adoj^ted  the  laxer  view,  which  per- 
mitted the  husband  to  divorce  his  wife  for  any  reason  that  seemed 
to  him  sufficient,  even  for  such  trifling  matters  as  "  preparing  a 
dish  badly,  making  a  blunder,  or  burning  the  meat."  Shammai, 
on  the  other  hand,  maintained  that  the  phrase  "some  unseemly 
thing"  must  be  interpreted  in  ])ractice  as  referring  exclusively 
to  adultery.  The  gosj)eIs  record  (Mark  10:3;  Matt.  19:3) 
that  the  Pharisees  put  to  Jesus  this  cpicstion  on  which  their  great 
scribes  had  disagreed,  and  that  he  unequi\ocallv  took  the  posi- 
tion already  favored  bv  Shammai.  llow  gencrallv  the  peoj)lc 
had  taken  advantage  of  llilKl's  lax  \iew  and  how  much  hardshij) 
had  been  suffered  by  Jewish  women  because  of  it  we  ha\e  no 
definite  means  of  knowing  ;  but  even  in  the  days  of  Malachi  the 
prophet  forcibly  denounced  tin-  husbands  who  di\-orced  their 
wives  (Mai.  2:14-16)  and  the  language  of  Jesus  in  the  .Sermon 
on  the  Mount  (Matt.  5:31  f.)  suggests  that  easy  divorce  was  one 
of  the  evils  of  his  time  also.     The  Mishna   makes   j)rovision   for 


JEWISH  FAMILY  LIFE 


451 


the  wife's  obtaining  divorce  from  her  husband  ( Ycbanioth  65,  a,  b  ; 
Kettubboth  'j'j,  a),  and  Paul  also  treats  the  question  of  the  sepa- 
ration of  husband  and  wife  reciprocally  (i  Cor.  7:  10  ff.);  but  the 
language  of  Jesus  in  the  gospels  (if  we  except  Mark  10  :  12)  con- 


HOFFMANN-JKSUS  AMONG  THE  DOCTORS 


See  page , 


tains  no  reference  to  the  possibility  of  a  wife's  putting  away  her 
husband.  Perhaps  the  question  of  a  wife's  right  to  put  away  her 
husband  had  in  Jesus'  day  not  been  much  agitated  among  the  Jews. 
But  whatever  evils  may  have  existed  in  Jewish  society  by  rea- 
son of  a  tendency  to  easy  dissolution  of  the  marriage  tie,  Jewish 
homes  were  in  this  respect  still  vastly  better  protected  than  the 
Greek  and  Roman  homes  of  the  time.  In  Athens  divorce  could 
be  had  by  mutual  consent,  or,  subject  to  restrictions,  on  the 
application  of  either  party.  Though  divorce  is  said  to  have 
been  unknown  among  the  early  Romans,  a  ver}-  different  state  of 
affairs  prevailed  in  the  latter  days  of  the  Republic  and  the  early 
days  of  the  Empire.  Marriage  customs,  and  with  them  divorce 
usages,     had     gradually    but    greatly    changed.        A    marriage 


452  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

might  be  dissolved  by  mutual  consent,  or  cither  party  might 
repudiate  the  other  without  the  consent  of  that  other.  As  the 
affectio  maritalis  was  conceived  to  be  necessary  to  constitute  a 
marriage,  so  its  continuance  was  regarded  as  necessary  to  the 
maintenance  of  the  marriage.  Cato  the  younger  divorced  his 
wife  Marcia,  that  his  friend  Hortensius  might  marry  her  and  she 
bear  him  children.  Cicero  divorced  the  wife  with  whom  he  had 
lived  thirty  years,  and  married  a  young  woman  whom  he  in  turn 
put  away.  Of  course  solitary  instances  prove  nothing,  but,  mak- 
ing due  allowance  for  exceptional  cases  and  the  exaggerations 
of  satirists,  it  is  only  too  evident  that  in  the  cultivated  heathen- 
ism of  the  first  century  the  foundations  of  family  morality  were 
sadly  undermined.  Jewish  family  life  presented  a  marked  and 
favorable  contrast  to  that  which  was  to  be  seen  in  Athens  or 
Corinth  or  Rome. 

But  if  in  the  matter  of  divorce  Judaism  appears  at  an 
advantage  as  compared  with  the  heathenism  around  it,  this  is 
still  more  true  in  respect  to  those  personal  vices  which  are  the 
most  deadly  enemies  of  pure  family  life.  Law  and  prophet 
alike  had  always  denounced  adultery  and  prostitution  in  sternest 
language,  and  though  both  vices  had  always  existed  and  called 
for  denunciation  (and  what  nation  can  here  plead  innocence?), 
yet  the  Jews  had  never  sunk  into  those  awful  depths  of  vilcncss 
to  which  the  cultivated  heathenism  of  the  first  century  had 
descended.  Lust  had  never  been  sanctified  by  religion  and 
enshrined  in  the  place  of  worship,  as  at  Corinth  ;  moralists  had 
never  been  reduced  to  the  extremity  of  praising  the  young  man 
who  betook  himself  to  the  harlot  because  he  would  thus  be 
saved  from  worse  inicjuity,  as  at  Rome.  Paul  indeed  laid  it  to 
the  charge  of  the  Jews  who  condemned  the  wickedness  of  the 
Gentiles  and  boasted  of  their  own  goodness  that  they  did  the 
same  things  that  thev  condemned,  and  in  i)artirular  accused 
them  of  adultery  (Rom.  2:i,  22);  yet  it  is  noticeable  that  his 
detailed  accusation  against  them  contains  no  mention  of  those 
awful  and  unnatural  vices  which  he  charges  against  the  Gentiles, 
and  which  we  know  from  other  sources  to  have  been  terribly 
common  ;   and  we    must  understand    his   charge  as   meaning   not 


JE  WISH  FA  MIL  I '  LIFE  .  453 

that  the  Jews  went   to  the   same   extent  of  iniquity  as  the  Gen- 
tiles, but  that  they  were  guilty  of  the  same  generic  sins. 

The  love  of  children  was  always  strong  in  the  heart  of  the 
Jew,  alike  of  father  and  mother.      Law  and  narrative  and  poetry 
of  the   Old  Testament  all  bear  witness  to  this  fact  (Lev.  26:9; 
I    Sam.    i;    Ps.    127:3;     128,    etc.).       Destruction    of    children 
unborn  or  exposure  of  them   after  birth,  both  too  terribly  com- 
mon among  the  Gentiles,  were  almost  or  wholly  unknown  among 
the  Jews.      Only   in   Ezek.  16:5  is   there   reference  to  the  latter 
custom,  and  then  only  in  a  figurative  sense.     As  among  ancient 
oriental  nations   in  general,  a  boy  was  more   highly  esteemed 
(i    Sam.    i:ii;  Jer.    20:15)    than  a  girl;   yet  daughters    were 
depreciated  only  relatively.      In  the  great  majority  of  cases  sons 
and  daughters  are  spoken  of  together  in  the  Bible   without  inti- 
mation of  discrimination.      In  ancient  times  the  boy  was  named 
at  his  birth,  and  sometimes,  at  least,  by  his  mother  (Gen.  29  :  32 
and   chap.    30),  but  in   later  times   on   the   occasion   of  his  cir- 
cumcision    (Luke    1:59;    2:21).       The   ceremonies   connected 
with  the  redemption  of  the  first-born  son  and  with  the  purifica- 
tion of  the  mother  are  familiar  to  every  reader  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment from  their  mention  in   connection  with  the  birth  of  Jesus. 
Attention   has   often  been  called    to  the   fact   that  the   offering 
made   on  this   occasion    (Luke   2:24)  was  that  which  the   law 
permits   to    her   whose   "means  suffice   not  for   a  lamb"    (Lev. 
12:8)  and  to  the  incidental  proof  thus  given  that  the  mother  of 
Jesus  belonged  among  the  poor  of  the  land. 

The  law  enjoined  upon  the  parents  the  duty  of  instructing 
their  children  both  in  the  history  and  in  the  religion  of  their 
nation  — two  things  which  were  to  the  Jew  almost  inseparable 
(Deut.  4:9;  6:7,20;  11:19).  To  the  injunction  of  Deut. 
6:6-9,'  and  the  similar  words  in  Ex.  13:9,  16  and  Ii:i8,  he 
gave  a  very  literal  interpretation.      In  obedience  to  the  law  as  he 

'  And  these  words  which  I  command  thee  this  day  shall  be  upon  thy  heart :  and 
thou  Shalt  teach  them  diligently  unto  thy  children,  and  shalt  talk  of  them  when  thou 
sittest  in  thy  house,  and  when  thou  walkest  by  the  way,  and  when  thou  liest  down,  and 
when  thou  risest  up.  And  thou  shalt  bind  them  for  a  sign  upon  thine  hand,  and  they 
shall  be  for  frontlets  between  thine  eyes.  And  thou  shalt  write  them  upon  the  door 
posts  of  thy  house,  and  upon  thy  gates. 


4  54  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

understood  it,  he  \\  rote  the  two  passages  Deut.  6  :  4-9  and  11  :  i  3  - 
21  on  parchment  and  enclosing  it  in  an  oblong  box  fixed  the  box 
to  house  and  room  doors  above  the  right-hand  doorpost ;  the 
four  passages,  Ex.  13:2-10,  11  17;  Deut.  6:4-9;  11:13-21, 
written  on  strips  of  parchment,  and  enclosed  in  little  leather 
boxes,  he  bound  as  phylacteries  on  his  arm  and  as  frontlets 
between  his  eyes  when  he  engaged  in  pravcr.  The  obligation  to 
wear  these  Tephillim  rested  only  on  the  male  members  of  the 
family,  and  on  them  from  the  thirteenth  year.  But  though  the 
Jews  thus  externalized  the  latter  })art  of  the  command,  there  is 
no  reason  to  doubt  that  they  obeyed  the  other  portion  concern- 
ing the  teaching  of  their  children  with  equal  punctiliousness.  It 
was  probably  not  an  idle  boast,  though  of  course  there  was 
something  of  oriental  hyperbole  in  it,  when  Joscphus  claimed 
that  his  people  were  so  well  acquainted  with  the  law  that  if  one 
should  ask  any  of  them  concerning  its  statutes  he  could  tell 
them  more  readily  than  his  own  name,  because  having  begun  to 
learn  them  from  earliest  infancy  they  were  as  it  were  engraved 
on  their  hearts.  Reciprocal  to  the  duty  of  the  parent  to  teach 
his  children  was  the  duty  of  the  child  to  obey  and  honor  his 
parents,  father  and  mother  alike  (Ex.  20:  12,  Prov.  1:8;  6  :  20  ff. 
Sir.  3  :3  ff.),  a  duty  flagrantly  evaded,  so  far  as  we  know,  only 
in  the  case  of  grown-up  children  who  under  shelter  of  a  \ow 
escaped  the  burden  of  supporting  their  parents  (Mark  7:11,  12  ; 
cf.   .Schiirer,  II,  II,  123;    cf.   also  .Sir.  3:12  ff.). 

In  general  it  must  be  said  that  the  law  and  its  recjiiirements 
filled  so  large  a  place  in  the  thought  and  life  of  the  Jew  that  it 
is  hardly  an  exaggeration  when  Jost  says  that  "the  entire  life  of 
Judaism  was  religion." 

Yet  thoroughly  as  a  Jewish  life  was  impregnated  with  the 
thought  of  religion,  and  heavy  as  was  the  burden  which  the  law 
and  the  casuistry  of  the  scribes  had  laid  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
j^eople  (Acts  15:10;  Matt.  23  :4),  yet  a  Jewish  home  had  its 
round  of  everyday  occuj>ations  such  as  are  nccessar\  e\ery- 
whcre  among  civilized  peoples  to  make  life  comfortable  or  e\en 
possible.  Children  were  cared  for  usually  by  their  own  mothers. 
Nurses  are  mentioned  only  in  connection  with  the  more  wealtlu" 


JEWISH  FAMILY  LIFE 


455 


families  (2  Sam.  4:4;  2  Kings  ii  -.2).  The  preparation  of  the 
food  seems  also  to  have  been  done  by,  or  under  the  immediate 
direction  of,  the  women  of  the  house,  even  in  families  that  were 
well-to-do.    In  patriarchal  times  Abraham  calls  on  Sarah  to  pro- 


AN  ORIENTAL  SCHOOL 


vide  cakes  for  his  unexpected  guests  (Gen.  18:6).  In  later  Old 
Testament  times  the  ideal  wife  rose  early  in  the  morning  and 
gave  meat  to  her  household  (Prov.  31 :  i  5).  And  in  the  New 
Testament  time  Martha,  evidently  by  no  means  of  the  poorest 
class,  "served"  when  Jesus  was  a  guest  at  her  house  (Luke 
10:40;  John  12:2).  Even  Hillel's  inclusion  of  a  burned  dinner 
in  the  justifiable  causes  for  divorce  testifies  that  the  wife  was  the 
cook  of  the  familv.  The  weaving  of  linen  and  of  wool  fell  also 
to  the  lot  of  the  women  of  the  house,  as  well  as  the  preparation 


456  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

and  care  of  the  clothing  for  the  household.  This,  however,  was  a 
somewhat  simpler  matter  than  it  would  be  in  modern  times  and 
in  occidental  lands. 

In  the  houses  of  the  wealthy  there  were  of  course  slaves  or 
hired  servants  (Luke  15:17)  to  perform  all  these  tasks  or  to 
assist  in  them.  But  slaves  at  least  were  far  less  numerous  than 
among  the  Romans,  and  their  condition  far  superior  in  every 
way.  Manual  labor  was  never  despised  by  a  true  Hebrew. 
The  rabbis  taught  that  he  who  failed  to  teach  his  son  a  trade 
in  effect  taught  him  to  steal.  Even  the  boy  who  was  destined 
to  be  a  scribe  first  learned  a  trade,  as  did  Paul.  It  was  no 
reproach  to  Jesus  that  he  was  a  carpenter  (Mark  6:3). 

The  entertainment  of  guests  was  among  the  Jews  at  once 
one  of  the  pleasures  of  life  and  a  sacred  duty.  The  Old  Testa- 
ment abounds  in  references  to  acts  of  hospitality,  and  the  New 
Testament  gives  instances  both  of  guests  invited  to  a  meal 
(Mark  2:15;  Luke  11:37;  14:1;  John  12:2)  and  of  friends 
or  strangers  entertained  over  night.  Christ's  illustration  of  the 
man  who  found  himself  with  nothing  to  set  before  his  friend 
who  had  come  to  him  on  his  journey  (Luke  i  i  :  5,  6)  indicates 
that  it  was  not  the  great  or  the  wealthy  onl\-  that  were  wont  to 
show  hospitality.  Khans  there  were,  to  be  sure,  where  a  traveler 
might  find  shelter  for  himself  and  his  beasts,  but  probably  in 
most  cases  had  to  pro\-ide  not  only  his  own  bedding  but  food 
for  himself  and  provender  for  his  animals.  In  such  a  khan  it 
was  that  Joseph  and  Mary  lodged  and  Jesus  was  born  (Luke  i-f). 
Sometimes  there  was  a  keeper  of  the  itm,  from  whom  necessary 
food,  etc.,  might  be  purchased  (Luke  10:36).  Hut  these  did 
not,  by  any  means.  (lis|)lacc  the  exercise  of  ])ri\ate  hosj)itality. 
The  instructions  gi\en  by  Jesus  to  his  discij^les  when  he  sent 
them  out  to  preach  (Mark  6:7,  S;  Luke  10:4-8)  show  that  a 
traveler  going  from  town  to  town  might  cxjject  entertainment 
not  only  among  his  [personal  friends,  but  among  comparative 
strangers,  and  that,  too,  without  j)ay.  In  1S38  Kdwhrd  Robinson 
traveled  through  certain  regions  where  the  ancient  customs  still 
prevailed,  and  was  received  everywhere  as  a  guest  without  expense; 
an  offer  of  pay  was  regarded  as  insulting  (  />'//•.  Kcs.,  II,   19). 


JE IVISH  FA  MIL  Y  LIFE  457 

Among  the  elements  of  Jewish  family  life  the  feasts  require 
at  least  brief  mention.  Though  the  three  great  feasts  were 
observed  at  Jerusalem  and  the  obligation  to  attend  them  was 
laid  only  on  the  male  members  of  the  family  (Deut.  16:  16), 
yet  the  women  often  went  voluntarily,  as  did  Mary  the  mother 
of  Jesus  (Luke  2:  41),  and  the  passover  meal  itself  was'observed 
as  a  family  feast.  Then  the  father  explained  to  his  children  the 
origin  and  significance  of  the  feast  in  accordance  with  the  com- 
mand of  Ex.  12  :  26,  27.  Even  those  who  remained  at  home 
were  reminded  of  the  feast  by  the  seven  days'  exclusion  of 
leaven  from  the  house  (Ex.  12  :  19,  20).  Among  the  influences 
that  were  at  the  same  time  intellectually  educative,  and  quicken- 
ing to  patriotism  and  religion,  and  which  tended  to  connect 
family  life  with  both,  the  feasts  were  of  the  highest  importance. 

It  was  into  a  Jewish  home  of  the  humbler  sort  that  Jesus 
was  born.  There  was  none  of  the  elegance  or  the  enervation 
that  come  with  wealth.  Industry  must  have  excluded  bitter 
poverty,  which  was  in  any  case  rare  among  the  Jews,  but  Joseph, 
the  village  carpenter,  probably  never  gave  to  his  family  of  sons 
and  daughters  (Mark  6:3)  more  than  the  ordinary  comforts  of 
life.  The  glimpses  we  are  afforded  of  the  life  in  that  home, 
elevated  by  love  and  permeated  with  religion,  lead  us  to  think 
of  it  as  a  noble  example  of  the  noblest  type  of  family  life  the 
ancient  world  knew.  Further  than  this  only  a  reverent  imagina- 
tion guided  by  knowledge  of  him  who  came  forth  from  that 
home  to  be  the  world's  Teacher  and  the  world's  Saviour  can 
carrv  us. 


THE  CHILD    lESUS  IX   PAINTING. 


Hy  W  1  1. 1. 1  A  M  C.  Wilkin  s  o  n, 
The  University  of  Chicago. 


Pictures  of  Jesus  are  iu holly  imau;inary. —  Artists  attempt  to  represent  the 
idea/  Christ. —  Preeminence  of  Raphae/  in  this  field. —  The  Sistine  Madonna. — 
Perugino's  painting  of  the  Christ-child. —  Fra  Angelica's  conception. —  The 
infant  Jesus  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci. —  Hoffman's  picture  of  the  boy  fesus  at 
twelve. —  Hunt's  Finding  of  fesus  in  the  Tefnple. —  Mii tier's  representation  oj 
foseph  and  fesus. —  Comparison  of  the  earlier  and  the  later  pictures  of  the 
child  fesus. — ■  Ha7>e  these  pictures  benefited  true  religion  ? 

Ii"  has  been  said  lamentingly  by  lovers  of  art  that  the  influ- 
ence of  Christianity,  or  rather  of  Roman  Catholicism,  has  tended 
to  the  injury  of  ])ainting  by  replacing  the  subjects  and  ideals 
that  ancient  classic  paganism  presented  with  subjects  and  ideals 
less  fit  and  less  lo\'ely  than  those.  The  gods  and  goddesses  of 
Greek'  mythology,  the  forms  and  faces  of  men  and  women 
exultant  in  strength  or  radiant  in  the  bloom  of  youth  and 
beauty,  have  given  way,  it  is  complained,  to  emaciated  saints 
and  lacerated  martyrs,  as  springs  of  inspiration  to  the  ]>ainter's 
brush  and  to  the  sculj)tor's  chisel.  Nobody  that  has  made  the 
tour  of  the  great  art  galleries  of  Europe  will  deny  that  there  is 
a  measure  of  truth  in  this  criticism,  l^ut,  on  the  other  hand, 
no  such  j^erson  can  fail  to  feel  that  there  has  been,  to  say  the 
least,  a  large  compensation  from  the  same  source  for  the  loss 
and  damage  that  the  cause  of  art  has  thus  suffered.  Christian 
history  has  suj>piied  to  artists  some  motixes  and  subjects  for 
their  use  surj)assing  in  true  \alue  am  that  Creek  or  Roman 
paganism  at  its  best  had  to  offer.  .Among  these,  supreme  in 
their  power  of  apj)eal  to  the  uni\ersal  human  heart,  are  tin- 
mother  Mary  and  her  son.  Childhood  may  bi-  said  to  ha\e  hat! 
hardly  any  j)lace  in  the  consideration  of  art  —  infancy,  perhaps, 
to  ha\'i'  had  no  placr  at  all  —  until  Christianit  \-  supplieil  it    in  the 

45.S 


THE  CHILD  JESUS  IN  PAINTING 


459 


story  of  the  divine  incarnation  in  Jesus  of  Nazareth.     The  pur- 
pose of  the  present  paj^er  is  to  set  before  readers,  in  reproductive 


RAPHAEL-THE  SISTINE  MADONNA 


See  page  461 


illustration,  accompanied  b)-  brief  elucidating  comment,  a  few 
select  specimens  of  what  the  art  of  painting  has  done  in  the  way 
of  imagining  and  embodying  ideals  of  the  child  Jesus. 

In  the  first  place  it  needs  to  be  said,  and  to  be  said  strongly, 
that  there  exists,  and  can  exist,  no  representation  of  the   person 


460  THE  BIHLICAL    WORLD 

ot  Jesus  Christ,  the  infant,  the  vouth,  or  the  man,  that  is  not 
purely  and  absolutely  the  j)roduct  of  imas^^ination,  and  of  imagi- 
nation working  without  historic  hint  of  any  sort  whatsoever  to 
guide  or  to  check  it.  We  not  only  do  not  know  how  Jesus 
looked,  but  we  do  not  know  whether  he  was  fair  to  see  or  the 
reverse  ;  or  whether,  indeed,  he  may  not  have  been  of  a  cjuite 
undistinguished  and  indifferent  personal  aj)j)carancc.  There  are 
texts  of  Scripture  that  favor  each  one  of  these  different  concep- 
tions. In  fact,  they  have  each  one  of  them  at  different  times 
or  in  different  places  been  entertained.  Happily  for  art,  liapj)ily 
for  humanity,  the  conception  that  makes  Jesus  fair  among  the 
children  of  men  has  pre\ailed  ;  and  artists  ha\e  vied  with  each 
other  in  seeking  to  glorify  the  Son  of  Man.  sometimes,  indeed, 
with  ])athetic,  but  always  with  superhuman,  personal  charm. 
This  has  been  especialh'  true  of  Jesus  as  infant  and  as  child. 

The  problem  presented  to  the  artist  undertaking  to  treat  this 
theme,  was  one  j)eculiarly,  indeed  uniquely,  interesting.  It  stimu- 
lated and  inspired  alike  by  its  nobleness  antl  by  its  difficulty. 
It  a|jpealed  to  everything  pure  and  high  and  arduously  aspiring 
in  the  soul  of  the  artist.  The  problem,  in  short,  was  nothing 
less  than  the  reconciling,  in  a  face  that  should  be  felt  to  be 
natural,  of  true  infantile  sim};licitv,  innocence,  unconsciousness, 
gaiety  even,  with  a  suggestion  of  tlej)th,  of  thoughtfulness,  of 
prescience,  of  pathos,  rather  divine  than  human.  In  the  attem|)t- 
ing  of  such  a  problem,  not  (Jiily  genius,  skill,  and  study  would 
be  brought  into  J^lay,  but  ecjually  the  sentiment  of  worship,  if 
that  sentiment  existed  in  the  artist's  .soul.  That  sentiment  cer- 
tainly did  sometimes  exist,  and  a  proper  effect  was  then  registered 
in  the  picture  j)roduce(l.  In  nian\-  other  cases  the  [)oetic  imagi- 
nation of  the  artist  had  to  do  what  it  coukl  to  perform  the  j)art 
of  the  missing  authentic  sentiment  of  worshij),  and  then  the 
contrasted  appropriate  result  would  appear  on  the  canvas,  hor 
Ruskin  is  probably  right  in  maintaining  that  art  is  the  truest 
language  ever  spoken  to  rellect  the  intimate  spirit  of  the  man 
that  sjjeaks  it.  As  to  his  own  real  interior  self,  the  artist  cannot 
ilissemble  in  his  work.  Whatever  else  he  leaves  out.  he  pi-r- 
force  puts  himself    into  his  picture. 


THE  CHILD  JESUS  IN  PAINTING  46 1 

One  artist,  of  all  the  Christian  ages  down  to  the  actual 
moment,  enjoys  an  undisputed  preeminence,  and,  thanks  to  a 
gracious  personality  in  him  commending  his  genius,  a  quite 
unenvied  preeminence,  among  the  painters  that  have  treated  the 
subject  of  the  child  Jesus.  This  could  be  no  other  than 
Raphael.  Some  fifty  different  pictures  from  his  hand,  or,  if 
not  wholly  from  his  hand,  at  least  in  great  part  from  his 
creative  imagination,  survive  to  attest  the  truly  amazing  fecun- 
dity of  this  great  artist's  genius  displayed  in  depicting  the 
mother  Mary  and  her  infant  son.  Of  these  pictures  some,  it  is 
likely,  were  the  fruit  of  collaboration  with  their  master  on  the 
part  of  Raphael's  pupils.  Grace,  celestial  grace,  is  the  circum 
fluous  ether  in  which  all  these  pictures  seem,  to  the  e3'e  of  the 
beholder,  to  float  as  if  upborne  by  their  own  inherent  buoyancy. 
Everybody  knows  the  so-called  Sistine  Madonna  (see  page  459). 
That  is,  indeed,  probably  the  best-known  picture  in  the  world.  It 
makes  the  fame  of  the  Dresden  gallery,  where  it  hangs  with  every 
advantage  of  artistic  display  to  enhance  the  luminous,  almost 
apocalyptic,  effect  it  instantaneously  produces  on  the  sympathetic 
spectator.  The  picture  is  so  familiar  in  reproductions  that  we 
might  almost  dispense  wath  exhibiting  it  here ;  but  that  verv 
familiarity  is  proof  of  its  being  too  dear  to  the  popular  heart  to 
be  passed  by  in  a  paper  like  this. 

The  just  interpretation  of  this  familiar  picture  requires  some 
little  attention  to  details.  The  proportion  of  parts  is  so  perfect 
that  the  central  figures  inevitably  attract  at  first,  as  they  ought 
to  do,  the  almost  exclusive  notice  of  the  observ^er.  The  Madonna 
is  treated  as  Queen  of  Heaven.  This  is,  of  course,  a  distinctly 
Roman  Catholic  element  in  the  artist's  conception,  which  the 
Protestant  student,  intent  on  aesthetic  appreciation,  can  afford  to 
overlook.  The  thought  of  it  is,  however,  necessary  in  order  to 
the  understanding  of  the  extraordinary  pose  and  situation  of  the 
mother.  She  appears  supported  on  a  radiant  cloud  ;  or,  indeed, 
rather  as  needing  no  support,  but  self-buoyant  like  the  cloud 
itself.  About  her  is  a  nimbus  of  angels  beholding  and  wonder- 
ing. These  forms  and  faces  are  almost  lost  to  view,  effaced  in 
the  cloud  of  which  they  seem  to  form  a  part.      On  either  side  are 


462  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

the  kneeling  figures  of  Pope  Sixtus  and  Saint  Barbara.  The 
anachronisms  thus  invohed  are  obvious,  but  they  need  not  dis- 
turb our  enjoyment.  Thev  are,  considered  in  themselves  alone, 
without  reference  to  historic  proj^rietv,  very  noble  adjuncts  to 
the  picture,  helping  to  balance  it  and  to  set  off,  bv  contrast  of 
pose  and  expression,  the  transcendent  majesty  intended  by  the 
artist  to  be  attributed  to  the  mother  and  the  son.  That  the 
mother  appears  comparatively  too  commanding  a  figure,  is  due 
to  the  overweening  homage  paid  to  her  in  the  Roman  Catholic 
cult.  It  would  be  unreasonable  to  expect  Raphael  to  transcend 
his  age  and  environment  sufficientlv  to  axoid  this  error.  The 
raj)t  expression  of  the  Madonna's  face  is  a  wonderfullv  com- 
posite expression,  made  up  of  a  certain  timid  wonder  at  her  own 
exaltation  —  a  sentiment  which  is  overcome  by  an  exquisite 
humility  of  accjuiescence  in  her  heaxenh'  calling  —  maiden 
modesty  reconciled  with  angelic  motherhood,  and  radiant  o\er  all, 
and,  as  it  were,  translucent  through  all,  a  j)urit\-  for  which  there 
is  no  fit  parallel  to  express  it  by  comparison.  When  you  can 
withdraw  your  eye  from  studying  and  admiring  the  exj)ression 
of  the  face,  you  may  spend  a  long  leisure  in  dwelling  with  satis- 
faction and  delight  on  the  incomparable  dignity  and  grace  of  the 
whole  figure,  with  its  flowing  folds  of  vestment,  from  the  simply 
parted  hair  down  to  the  unconscious  loveliness  of  the  feet. 

But  it  is  the  infant  son  in  the  mother's  arms  that  it  really 
belongs  to  us  here  to  study.  How  ineffably  fair  in  infantile 
beauty,  while  how  miraculously  transfigured  from  human  to  divine 
in  the  noble  de[)th  of  expression  imj)rinted  on  the  face,  or  rather 
shining  through  it  !  And  then  the  "starlike  sorrows  of  immortal 
eyes,"  with  a  gaze  in  them  as  if  betokening  "thoughts  that 
wander  through  eternity  "  I  It  is  very  j)robably  conjectured 
that  the  infant  angels  that  rest  on  the  bar  at  the  bottom  of  the 
canvas  and  look  u])  with  wonder  and  worship,  were  an  after- 
thought of  the  artist,  painted  in  subsefjuently  to  the  comj)leting 
of  the  rest  of  the  picture.  There  is  a  fine  fitness  of  congruity 
between  the  two  types  of  infancy,  the  divine-human  and  the 
angelic,  thus  brought  together  in  mutuall\-  illuminating  coi 
parison   and  contrast. 


)m 


THE  CHILD  JESUS  IN  PAINTING  463 

We  shall  be  obliged  to  limit  ourselves  here  to  not  more  than 
eight  illustrations  of  our  subject.  If  we  should  select  these  on 
the  ground  of  artistic  value  merelv,  or  on  the  ground  of  this 
together  with  the  fame  of  the  artist  producing  them,  we  should 
hardly  have  occasion  to  go  away  from  Raphael  for  our  purpose. 
Probably  no  other  artist  could  offer  us  a  single  picture  of  the 
child  Jesus  on  the  whole  superior  in  interest  to  any  one  of  six  or 
eight  that  we  could  find  from  Raphael's  hand  (see  ]).  422).  But, 
for  the  sake  of  variety,  we  shall,  after  one  delay  further  with 
Raphael,  go  to  other  artists  for  the  rest  of  our  illustrations.  An 
assemblage  has  been  made  of  the  heads  of  the  infant  Jesus,  taken 
from  various  pieces  of  Raphael.  This  we  here  reproduce.  It  will 
be  seen  that  the  topmost  head  is  from  the  picture  just  shown, 
which  goes  generally  by  the  name  of  the  Sistine  Madonna. 
This  head  is  worthy  of  the  preeminence  which,  by  the  present 
arrangement,  it  enjoys.  The  head  next  it,  seeking  to  nestle 
against  it,  is  almost  equally  familiar,  being  that  belonging  to  the 
picture  known  as  the  Madonna  della  Seggiola  or  della  Sedia 
[Madonna  of  the  Chair].  A  little  more  pure  softness  of  expres- 
sion, a  little  less  wistful  prescience  in  the  eye,  a  tenderer  infantile 
age,  seem  to  difference  this  head  from  that  against  which  it  leans 
as  if  supporting  itself  on  an  elder  brother's  shoulder.  The  head 
directly  under  the  one  last  noticed  is  from  the  Madonna  della  Casa 
Tempi.  This  loses  more  than  the  other  two  do  by  separation 
from  the  picture  to  which  it  belongs  ;  it  suffers,  too,  in  compari- 
son by  not  showing  us  so  much  frank  front  aspect.  The  head 
to  the  left  of  this  last,  having  the  upward-looking  face,  is  love- 
lier again.  It  is  taken  from  La  Belle  Jardiniere  [The  Beautiful 
(female)  Gardener],  so-called  from  the  surrounding  of  land- 
scape given  the  mother  in  the  painting.  It  is  truly  wonderful 
what  divine  loveliness  of  expression  the  genius,  the  art,  and  the 
gracious  personality  of  the  painter  have  combined  to  impart  to 
the  eye  shown  us  in  this  picture,  which,  the  pose  of  the  head 
being  such,  is  almost  alone  depended  upon  to  secure  the  desired 
effect.  The  soft,  moulded  fullness  of  the  cheek  and  chin,  the 
lips  opening  like  the  opening  bud  of  a  flower,  contribute  some- 
thing ;    and  then  the  sweet,  affectionate,  appealing,  upward  turn 


464  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

of  the  head — altogether  it  is  rather  the  picture  of  a  very  lovely 
human  child  than  the  suggestion  of  a  theanthropic  infant  such  as 
appears  to  have  been  attempted  by  eminence  in  the  canvas  of 
the  Sistine  Madonna.  The  sleeping  child  in  the  center  of  the 
picture  needs  no  descriptive  comment  ;  but  the  longer  one 
dwells  with  the  eye  upon  the  pure  beatified  peace  of  the  face, 
the  more  one  feels  the  artist's  power  in  repose.  The  head  to 
the  Sistine's  right  is  from  a  picture  called  the  Bridgewater 
Madonna  and  owned  in  England.  It  is  perhaps  the  least  inter- 
esting member  of  the  group  of  infant  Christs  here  displayed. 
The  two  heads  opposite  each  other  on  the  extreme  right  and 
left  of  the  picture  are  heads  of  the  infant  John  Baptist.  The 
one  on  the  right  will  be  recognized  as  that  seen  in  the  Madonna 
della  Sedia.  The  other  seems  to  be  that  of  the  La  Belle  Jar- 
diniere, but  it  is  shown  reversed.  It  ought  to  be  added  that 
these  identifications  though  submitted  by  the  present  writer  with 
some  confidence,  are  subject  to  correction. 

It  will  be  interesting  to  run  back  from  Raphael  to  Perugino, 
his  master,  that  we  may  get  a  hint  of  the  example  and  culture 
through  which  the  genius  of  the  more  famous  pupil  was  nourished 
and  guided.  Art  does  not,  more  than  Nature,  make  her  progress 
by  leaps  ;  Raphael  owes  much  to  his  predecessors.  The  original 
of  the  picture  by  Perugino  which  we  present  hangs  in  the  Pitti 
Palace  in  Florence.  The  canvas  has  suffered  somewhat,  and  the 
reproduction  of  course  sympathizes.  But  it  is  easy  to  see  that  on 
such  a  pupil  as  Raphael  such  a  master  as  Perugino  must  have 
had  an  influence  no  less  fine  in  quality  than  it  was  great  in  cjuan- 
lity.  The  transition  is  not  abrupt  from  the  trantjuil  sweetness 
and  purity  of  Pcrugino's  atmosphere  and  handling  to  the 
serene  seraphic  beauty  of  Raphael's  work.  The  mother  stands 
in  flowing  vestment  with  head  declined  and  eyes  downcast 
toward  the  babe,  whom,  with  her  hands  pressed  together 
before  her  breast,  she  seems  less  to  love  and  admire  than  to 
worship.  The  nursemaid  holds  the  child  and  regards  the 
mother  as  if  to  catch  from  her  the  scntiiiunt  pri)i)er  for  herself  ; 
one  is  reminded  of  that  saying  of  the  psalm.  "As  the  eyes  of 
a  maiden  [look]  unto   the  hand  of  her  mistress."      Retired   half 


THE  CHILD  JESUS  IN  PAINTING  465 

behind  the  mother  Mary,  little  John  Baptist,  quite  by  himself, 
clasps  his  hands  in  a  gesture  of  adoration  well  befitting  his  pen- 
sive, precocious,  prophetic  face.  Jesus,  doubling  his  fist  against  his 
chin  in  true  infantile  sort,  raises  his  eyes  toward  his  mother  with 


PERUGINO- MADONNA  AND  CHILD 


an  expression  of  ruth  in  them,  as  if  he  felt  by  prescient  sympathy 
the  sword  that  was  to  pierce  through  her  own  soul  also,  in  the 
future  passion  of  her  son.  It  is  a  noble  treatment,  not  unworthy 
to  have  forerun  the  greater  pupil's  handling  of  the  same  subject. 
Let  us  recede  once  more,  going  back  the  space  of  one  gen- 
eration behind  Perugino  to  Fra  Angelico,  surnamed  The  Blessed. 
As  the  prefix  Fra  [Brother]  imports,  this  painter  was  a  friar. 
His  character  and  life,  if  all  tradition  can  be  trusted,  confirmed 
as  it  is  by  the  testimony  of  the  work  surviving  from  his  hand, 
were  everything  that  could  tend  to   fit  a  man  for  producing  pic- 


466 


THE  BIBLICAL   ll'OIU^lJ 


tures  seven  times  jnirified  in  quality.  He  painted  in  a  spirit  of 
religious  devotion.  It  is  related  of  him  that  whenever  he  took 
up  his  brush  he  prejmred  himself  for  using  it  by  an  exercise  of 
prayer.      The    result    is    that   an   air   of  sanctity  consecrates  his 

canvases,  bevond  even  the  purity 
that  Raphael  drew  from  the  depths 
of  his  gracious  nature  and  his 
poetic  imagination.  The  hallowed 
peace  that  saint  and  angel  express 
in  Fra  Angelico's  pictures  is  like 
a  glimpse  of  heaven.  He  was  a 
charming  colorist,  but  of  course 
our  present  reproductions  neces- 
sarily lose  the  effect  due  to  the 
soft  delicious  blending  of  those 
harmonious  hues  which,  against 
the  golden  background  character- 
istic of  him,  heighten  so  the  charm 
of  his  pictures.  But  there  is  grace 
enough  in  face  and  form  and  pose 
and  vesture  to  leave  the  lack 
of  color  hardlv  missed,  except  to 
those  who  have  grown  familiar 
with  the  originals.  The  piece 
we  show  bears  the  name  of  the 
Madonna  della  Stella,  a  name  derived  from  the  star  pictured  on 
the  forehead  of  the  Mother.  The  crown  unobtrusively  sus- 
])ended  over  her  head  suggests  the  idea  of  the  coronation  of  the 
Virgin.  Her  face  might  at  first  seem  too  miniature-like  to 
express  the  strength  and  character  we  should  wish  to  find  in  an 
ideal  representation  of  the  mother  of  our  Lord.  But  it  is  not 
strength  that  we  should  look  for  in  Fra  Angelico's  work  ;  it  is 
the  beauty  of  holiness.  The  divine  babe  nestles  to  his  mother, 
a  fondling  finger  pressed  to  her  chin  ;  but  the  regard  of  his  eyes 
is  outward  as  if  gazing  far  away  and  jnercing  into  futurity. 
One  can  imagine  that  the  infant  Saviour  already  foresees  his 
cross.      It   belonged    to   the  inaiden-likc  modesty,  the   cloistered 


FK.\  .\NGELICO- MADONNA 
DELLA   STELLA 


THE  CHILD  JESUS  IN  PAINTING 


467 


chastity,  perhaps  even  the  severe  moral  sense,  of  Fra  Angelico's 
taste  and  imagination,  that,  as  will  be  observed,  he  clothes  his 
infant  Jesus  ;  not  depending  at  all  for  his  effect  on  exhibition  of 
nude   flesh,  even   in  the  case  of  infancy,  where  nearly  if  not  all 


LEONARDO  DA  VINCI  -  MADONNA  AND  CHILD 


other  artists  feel  quite  released  from  any  necessity  to  use  dra- 
pery. The  colors  employed  by  Fra  Angelico  in  the  present 
picture  (which  is  part  of  an  altar-piece  done  in  panels)  are  a 
softly  brilliant  blue  for  the  outer  robe  of  the  Virgin,  with  pale 
yellow  for  the  lining  slightly  displayed  in  narrow  edges  where 
it  chances  to  turn  back,  and  a  sober  red  for  the  under  dress. 
The  babe  is  enveloped  in  a  vesture  of  this  latter  color.  All  is 
set  off  against  a  background  of  gold,  according  to  Fra  Angel- 
ico's habit,  already  mentioned,  in  painting. 

Returning    to  the    time   of   Raphael's   master   Perugino,  we 


468  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

encounter  the  stately  figure  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  whose  fame, 
like  that  of  Raphael  (and  that  of  Michael  Angelo  still  more) 
is  the  fame  of  a  various,  not  to  sav  universal,  genius,  and  not  of 
a  painter  merelv.  We  are  able  to  present  an  infant  Jesus  from 
his  hand  that  is  impressed  with  a  distinction  and  an  elevated 
character  recognizably  the  artist's  own  sign  manual.  The  mother 
and  the  son  have  just  the  likeness  to  each  other  that  seems  fit. 
It  is  a  grave  and  noble  beauty  that  moulds  and  informs  the 
face  of  Mary,  w^hile  the  son,  standing  beside  her,  condescends 
as  from  a  conscious  majesty  divine  to  show  his  blended  infantile 
human  nature  by  toying  with  a  slender  lily  stem  held  in  the 
hand  of  his  mother.  The  two  do  not  look  at  one  another  ;  but 
the  air  of  both  is  as  if,  without  exchange  of  looks,  the  sympathy 
and  understanding  between  them  were  perfect.  There  is  per- 
haps a  trace  of  something  like  what  we  might  be  tempted  to 
call  precocity  in  the  child's  face ;  but  this,  if  it  is  reall}'  present, 
is  of  course  to  be  interpreted  as  an  attempt,  not  quite  absolutely 
successful,  on  the  artist's  part,  to  produce  an  effect  of  divinity 
in  the  expression.  The  fine  severity  of  taste  reigning  in  the 
picture,  the  serene  dignity  of  it,  are  admirable  beyond  praise. 
It  is  an  exquisite  work  of  art.  But  we  need  in  this  picture,  as 
in  all  the  others  shown,  to  overlook  a  disregard,  on  the  painter's 
part,  of  certain  obvious  historic  probabilities.  For  instance, 
here  there  is  far  too  much  costly  elegance  of  costume,  and  too 
much  suggestion  of  drawing-room  propriety,  to  fit  the  circum- 
stances of  a  child  born,  as  Jesus  was,  son  to  a  carpenter  and 
cradled  in  a  manger.  But  this  is  only  saying  in  effect  that  the 
great  Italian  masters  of  the  brush  were  not  realists  in  art. 
Thcv  idealized  freely  and  they  were  willing  to  produce  their 
impressions  on  the  observer  by  some  sacrifice  of  mere  raw  fidel- 
ity in  the  matter  of  fact  to  noble  fictions  of  the  imagination. 

Let  us  make  an  abruj)t  transition  from  the  classic  art  ol 
the  Renaissance  period  to  the  art  of  our  own  times.  Ileinrich 
I  loffmann  is  a  German  painter  who  has  treated  Bible  themes  with 
much  popular  acce])tance.  We  give  a  i)icturc  of  his  representing 
Jesus  no  longer  a  babe,  but  now  a  boy  of  twelve  (sec  p.  451).  The 
subject  is  the  Disjjutation  in  the  Temple.      The  light,  as  it  should 


THE  CHILD  JESUS  IN  PAINTING  469 

do,  centers  upon  the  face  and  figure   of  the   child,  standing  in 
the  midst  of  doctors  of  the  law,  who  listen  with  various  expres- 
sions of  countenance  to   the  wonderful  utterances   issuing  from 
those  youthful   lips  ;   or,  more  accurately,  who  regard  the  boy  in 
silent  perplexity  caused   by  something  he  has  just  said  —  for  his 
lips  are  now  closed.    The  attitudes  and  the  looks  of  the  different 
personages  are  very  carefully  studied,  to  indicate  their  imagined 
different    characters    and   different    present    dispositions  toward 
•what  is    here    unexpectedly  confronting  them.     The   somewhat 
severe  face   of  the   man   sitting  in  the  foreground  to  the  right, 
who  holds  the  book  on  his  knees  and  who  perhaps  feels  respon- 
sible for  not  being  unduly  moved,  expresses,  in  the  firm,  almost 
hard,    closure    of  the  lips,  determined    impenetrability  to  truth 
proceeding  from    such    a  source   as   the    boy  before  him.     The 
younger   man    next    him  bends    toward  Jesus  with    much   more 
benio-nity,    if    not     even    with    some    openness     to     impression, 
betrayed     in    his     half-yearning    mien.     The    venerable     figure 
beyond   this   one,  who   stands   leaning,  like  Jacob,  upon  the  top 
of  his  staff,  has  a  somewhat  crass  worldly  look  of  some  curiosity, 
but  more  incredulity.     The  man  to  the  right  of  Jesus  grasps  his 
beard   and    rests    his    chin    in    his    hand,  with   an  air  of  sincere, 
though   perplexed,   inquiry,  betokening  some  accessibleness  on 
his  part  to  divine  communication  coming   even  from   the  mouth 
of  such  a  child.      But  these   various   figures    are  of  course  but 
accessories  and   foils   to  the  figure  of  Jesus   himself.      A  sugges- 
tion  of  supernatural   light    in   aureole  beams  from  the   head    of 
the  boy,  whose  illumined   countenance   is  self-luminous  as   well 
and  seems  to  diffuse  light.     It  has  evidently  been  the  effort  of 
the  artist  to  blend  in  the  boy's  attitude  and  expression  a  beau- 
tiful  modesty  of  childhood  with  a    half-unconscious,    half-con- 
scious direct'  vision  of  truth.     There   may  be  suspected   in  the 
picture  a  verging  toward   manneristic  sentimentalism  weakening 
somewhat  the  impression  of  nobility  and  strength  which  a  treat- 
ment  of  this    subject    ought  to    produce.      But    it  is  a  piece  of 
work  well  adapted  to  give  general  satisfaction. 

Our  next  picture  is  of  the   Finding  of  Jesus   in  the  Temple. 
The  painter  is  an  Englishman,  Holman  Hunt,  an  artist  perhaps 


4/0 


THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 


entitled  to  be  considered  the  head  of  the  so-called  Prcraphael- 
ite  school.  The  figures  here  are  somewhat  numerous,  and  they 
are  portra3ed  with  all  that  painstakingly  minute  fidelity  to  fact 
and  to  nature  which  is  the  characteristic  of  this  group  of  artists. 


HOLMAN  HUNT-THE  FINDING  OF  JESUS  IN  THE  TEMPLE 

But  the  interest  of  course  belongs  to  the  bov  Jesus  himself, 
with  his  mother  and  Joseph.  The  mother  has  already  succeeded 
in  detaching  her  son  from  his  engagement  with  the  Jewish  doc- 
tors, and  —  one  of  her  arms  thrown  lovingly  about  him  to  a  rest 
on  his  shoulder,  while  on  the  other,  upraised,  is  responsively  laid 
a  hand  of  the  boy  —  she  is  whispering  in  his  attentive  ear.  The 
parted  lij;s  indicate  this  action  on  her  part  as  still  in  progress. 
The  concern,  the  affectionate  rej^roach,  expressed  in  her  coun- 
tenance suggests  that  she  is  saying  :  "Son,  why  hast  thou  thus 
dealt  with  us?  Hchold,  thy  father  and  I  sought  tlicc  st)rr(nv- 
ing."  The  son  has  not  yet  made  his  immortally  memorable 
reply  :  "  How  is  it  that  ye  sought  me  ?  Wist  ve  not  that  I  must 
be  in  my  Father's  house?" — but  the  wide-open  eyes,  looking 
out  with  such  far  speculation  into  space,  indicate  sufficiently 
what  the  nature  of  the  rej)lv  will  be.     Joseph,  with  noble  reserve, 


THE  CHILD  JESUS  IN  PAINTING  47  I 

stands  retired  behind  the  mother,  adding  fit  foil  of  contrast  to 
the  two  principal  figures  in  front.  The  son  appears  to  listen 
loyally  to  his  mother,  while  yet  his  expression  suggests  a  sense 
in  him  of  paramount  loyalty  and  obedience  owed  to  his  Father 
in  heaven.  Some  scrutinizing  students  of  his  face  may  suspect 
in  themselves  a  feeling  that  the  artist  has  overstrained  the  inten- 
sity of  the  look  and  produced  an  effect  as  if  the  boy  were  not 
an  example  of  perfectly  normal,  wholesome  boyhood,  but  had 
become  precocious  through  an  experience  of  some  sort  of  suf- 
fering. The  execution  of  the  picture,  it  will  be  observed,  is 
singularly  elaborate  and  finished  in  every  detail.  There  is 
nothing  of  the  indistinctness  of  "impressionism." 

We  present  finally  another  German  picture  (see  p.  447).  It 
would  seem  as  if  perhaps  the  painter,  Karl  Miiller,  had  sought,  in 
one  instance  at  least,  to  do  something  towards  redressing  the  bal- 
ance between  Mary  and  Joseph  in  the  representations  of  art,  by 
substituting  for  the  mother  her  husband  in  his  treatment.  The 
motive  has  certainly  the  interest  and  the  merit  of  difference  and 
novelty.  The  father,  who  bears  a  face  much  resembling  the  conven- 
tional face  of  Christ  in  art,  stands  patiently  instructing  his  wonder- 
ful boy.  Such,  at  any  rate,  is  the  apparent  intention  of  the  picture. 
But  the  boy  seems,  in  his  wise  docility,  his  docile  wisdom,  to 
have  surprised  Joseph  into  the  attitude  rather  of  one  instructed 
than  of  one  instructing.  The  father  has  involuntarily  placed 
his  open  palm  against  his  breast,  as  if  in  an  awe  before  the  boy 
like  the  awe  of  worship.  The  boy,  who  is  made  almost  feminine 
in  the  extreme  delicacy  of  his  beauty,  looks  up  with  revelation, 
almost  more  than  inquiry,  into  his  father's  face.  "  Hyacinthine 
locks,"  like  those  of  Milton's  Adam,  curl  clustering  down  his 
neck.  On  the  whole,  one  needs  to  see  the  fine  circlet  of  halo 
around  the  head  to  be  sure  that  this  figure  is  really  that  of  the 
boy  Jesus.  Without  that,  the  careless  observer  might  have 
quite  mistaken  the  meaning  of  the  picture,  and,  misled  by  the 
Christlikeness  of  Joseph's  head,  have  understood  the  artist's 
purpose  to  be  to  represent  the  Saviour  instructing  an  ideal  boy. 
It  was  no  doubt  a  mistake  in  judgment  and  in  taste  on  the 
artist's  part  to  introduce  such  a  resemblance  into  his  portrait  of 


472  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

Joseph.  It  might  c\en  raise  the  suspicion  of  an  ulterior  pur- 
pose in  his  mind,  to  suggest  an  idea  repugnant  to  the  just  sense 
of  those  who  accept  for  literally  true  the  evangelist's  story  of  the 
birth  of  Jesus.  The  leaf  and  flower  that  irame  the  two  figures 
arc  quite  in  the  somewhat  sentimental  taste  that  characterizes 
the  whole  treatment. 

If  the  pictures  here  shown  may  fairly  be  taken,  and  probably 
they  may,  as  representative  of  the  two  types  of  treatment,  the  older 
ideal  portraits  of  Jesus  in  art  will  by  most  be  felt  to  have  more 
depth  of  tone,  not  only  in  res})ect  of  technique,  but  in  feeling, 
than  the  newer  ones];  more  faith,  more  sincerity,  more  of  the 
sentiment  of  awe  and  of  worship.  The  spirit  of  the  earlier  age 
was  more  favorable  to  such  treatment  of  such  a  subject. 

I  have  left  myself  no  room  to  discuss  a  question  very  natu- 
rally raised  by  the  subject  here  treated,  viz.,  Has  religion  been 
on  the  whole  a  gainer  from  the  fictile  representations  by  painters 
of  the  face  and  form  of  the  Madonna  and  of  Jesus  ?  If  religion 
be  largely  understood  to  include  such  interests. as  culture  and 
humanitv,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  true  reply  to  our  ques- 
tion ;  religion  so  understood  has  certainly  been  a  gainer.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  religion  be  confined  to  the  central  idea  of  obe- 
dience to  God,  there  is  more  chance  for  di\crgcnce  of  opinion. 
There  is  always  danger  that  the  aesthetic  and  the  sentimental 
interest  will  usurp  what  belongs  projjcrly  to  the  authentic  reli- 
gious interest  alone.  To  dwell  in  thought  on  the  Christ  of  the 
gospels  and  the  epistles,  to  seek  to  become  ourselves  living 
cojjies  of  the  divine  jjortrait  therein  shown,  would  certainly  be 
better  than  any  amount,  or  an)-  degree,  of  joy  in  appreciation  of 
art,  even  of  art  employed  in  ideal  representations  of  the  incar- 
nate Lord.  What  may  seem  less  like  a  homiletic  lesson,  it 
would  probably  be  also  in  result  a  better  cultivation  of  both  the 
taste  and  the  sentiments. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  CHILDREN. 


By  Charles  R.  Henderson, 
The  University  of  Chicago. 


ChristicDiity  fro)n  a  cradle. —  Religioti  satictifies  natural  affection. —  The 
teaching  of  Jesus  as  to  the  holiness  of  childhood. —  Children  have  a  value. 
—  Historic  service  of  the  church. —  Evils  of  pagan  custom. —  Renaissance  and 
Reformation. —  Free  schools. —  Patience  of  teacher. —  Education  of  daughters. 
■ — 'Debt  and  duty  owed  to  children. —  Regenerative  energies  latent  in  the 
church.— Hope  of  mankind  in  the  life  of  youth. 

Historic  Christianity  begins  with  the  Holy  Night,  repre- 
sented by  Correggio  as  a  scene  of  commonplace  reality  and 
coarseness  glorified  by  a  radiance  which  streamed  from  the 
Divine  Infant.  The  Son  of  Man  began  as  a  babe,  passed  through 
the  typical  phases  of  human  life,  and  sanctified  all.  When  the 
Logos  gave  himself  in  revelation  to  humanity  he  entered  its  life 
by  the  lowly  gate  of  humble  birth.  Milton's  "  Hymn  on  Christ's 
Nativity  "  sings  of  the  peaceful  hour  which  ushered  in  a  reign 
of  peace  and  good  will.  Enchanted  shepherds  listened  to  the 
heavenly  song  of  hope  : 

"  Time  will  run  back  and  fetch  the  age  of  gold  ; 

And  speckled  vanity 

Will  sicken  soon  and  die, 
And  leprous  sin  will  melt  from  earthly  mould. 

Yea,  Truth  and  Justice  then 

Will  down  return  to  men. 
Orb'd  in  a  rainbow  ;   and,  like  glories  wearing, 

Mercy  will  sit  between. 

Throned  in  celestial  sheen." 

For  thus  the  classic  poet  of  Puritanism  has  interpreted  the 
angelic  praises  :  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth 
peace  among  men." 

Childhood  and  love  of  children  were  not  new  elements. 
The  necessities  of  prolonged  infancy   had  made  the  family.      It 

473 


474  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

was  not  the  love  of  man  and  woman  for  each  other  so  much  as 
the  appeal  of  wailing  and  helpless  infancy  which  led  the  first 
steps  of  human  progress  and,  at  the  dawn  of  recorded  time, 
cemented  and  ennobled  the  family.  Jesus  came  not  to  create 
the  family  but  to  regenerate  it.  He  found  it  existing  as  a  prov- 
idential fact,  but  full  of  evil,  because  man  was  evil.  He  saw  in 
it  the  possibilities  of  the  divine  ideal  which  shaped  it. 

Among  those  ancient  Aryan  peoples  from  whom  wc  have 
sprung  the  House  Spirit,  the  ancestor,  was  an  object  of  affection- 
ate and  lo\al  worship,  of  confidence  and  love.  Offerings  were 
made  to  the  powerful  shades,  and  for  thousands  of  years  a  real 
flame  was  kindled  on  the  hearth  where  the  meal  was  shared  with 
living  and  dead.  The  safety  and  happiness  of  the  household 
seemed  to  them  to  depend  on  the  favor  of  these  invisible  and 
deified  members  of  the  family.  The  oldest  son  was  selected  to 
succeed  his  father  as  priest,  and  it  was  his  duty  to  propitiate  the 
fa\or  of  the  familiar  spirit.  It  was  regarded  as  a  great  calamity 
if  there  was  no  son  to  offer  the  funereal  honors.  A  similar 
feeling  prevails  in  China  and  other  countries  to  this  day.  Under 
the  influence  of  this  belief,  which  seems  so  strange  to  us,  a  son 
was  greatly  desired,  and  j)arental  instincts  were  fostered  by  the 
belief.  But  a  daughter  was  of  less  value.  A  deformed  or 
superfluous  son  might  be  refused  by  his  father  and  left  to  perish. 
The  child  was  valued  primarily  for  the  sake  of  the  household, 
not  for  its  own  intrinsic  worth.  When  the  ancient  city  states 
grew  up  this  sentiment  was  j^ersistent  and  children  were  regarded 
in  the  light  of  political  interests.  Natural  affection  alwavs 
influenced  conduct,  and  this  was  i)articularlv  true  of  mothers. 
But  even  natural  affection  became  blunted  by  the  extremes  of 
luxury  and  misery  in  the  Roman  Empire  before  Christ  appeared. 

Christianity  changed  the  point  of  view.  The  object  of  wor- 
ship could  no  longer  be  a  household  god  or  national  deity,  but 
must  be  the  Universal  Father.  There  is  no  selection  of  the  old- 
est son  to  rejjresent  the  famiU',  for  all  are  priests  unto  God. 
Utility  to  the  state  is  no  longer  the  standard  of  judgment,  for 
even  the  weakest  son  of  Adam  has  in  him  the  possibilities  of 
full  citizenship  in  the  kingdom    of  (iod.      These  teachings  were 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  CHILDREN  475 

revolutionary  and  made  childhood  central  in  the  new  Christian 
society.  The  early  chapters  of  Matthew  and  Luke  made  an 
impression  on  the  church  which  could  never  be  erased.  There 
was  sketched  in  outline  a  model  for  childhood,  instructive  to 
parents,  attractive  to  the  young.  The  few  fragmentar}-  hints  in 
the  evangel  have  supplied  poets,  musicians,  sculptors,  painters, 
and  orators  with  pathetic  and  inspiring  motives.  Poverty  there 
felt  fellowship,  and  moral  beauty  asked  for  adequate  artistic 
expression.  The  very  gaps  in  the  story  leave  room  for  the 
innocent  recreations  of  imagination,  for  apocryphal  tales,  poetic 
fancies,  and  mystical  symbols  of  a  divine  presence. 

The  teachings  of  Jesus  in  his  public  ministry  gave  articulate 
voice  to  the  meaning  of  his  child  life.  We  read  of  his  tender  yet 
dignified  treatment  of  mothers  and  children,  in  painful  contrast 
with  the  narrow  and  harsh  protest  of  his  disciples,  and  the  disposi- 
tion of  the  Divine  Father  shines  about  the  sacred  page.  A  simple 
hymn  of  our  childhood  tells  the  instinctive  response  to  the  story  : 

"  I  wish  that  his  hands  had  been  placed  on  my  head, 
That  his  arms  had  been  thrown  around  me ; 
And  that  I  might  have  seen  his  kind  looks  when  he  said, 
'  Let  the  little  ones  come  unto  me.'  " 

These  teachings  of  Jesus  reveal  the  estimate  of  childhood 
there  in  heaven  where  all  stands  clear  in  its  true  character. 
"Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  "Their  angels  do  always 
behold  the  face  of  my  Father."  He  who  knew  best  of  all  the 
fearful  possibilities  of  hereditary  evil  dared  to  utter  such  enco- 
miums, dared  to  set  forth  a  child  as,  in  some  sense,  a  type  of  the 
character  he  had  come  to  create.  Obedience,  filial  trust,  inno- 
cence, promise  fair  of  every  good  quality,  absence  of  prejudice, 
an  open  heart  "  fit  for  the  seeds  of  virtue  strewed,"  were  ele- 
ments which  won  his  praise  and  showed  his  intention. 

The  teaching  of  Jesus  has  always  awakened  in  sympathetic 
minds  a  feeling  that  children  are  desirable  to  complete  life,  to 
awaken  in  parents  a  sense  of  responsibility,  to  steady  and 
moderate  lower  impulses,  to  make  the  family  a  fruitful  branch 
of  the  vine  of  life  eternal.  That  holy  doctrine  of  childhood, 
based  on  the   authority   of   the  incomparable  Teacher,  tends   to 


476  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

make  a  corrupting  example  seem  hideous  and  revolting  to  con- 
science and  heart ;  to  make  sacrifices  for  offspring  a  part  of 
devotion  to  God  ;  to  awaken  aspiration  to  live  so  purely,  nobly, 
wisely,  and  unselfishly  that  tiny  feet  may  safely  follow  the  paths 
we  choose  for  ourselves ;  to  make  marriage  more  than  a  legal 
contract  for  personal  gratification,  to  make  it  indissoluble  even 
under  the  tests  of  trial  and  friction,  for  the  sake  of  the  little 
ones  to  whom  divorce  would  mean  shame,  misery,  and  ruin'. 

The  historic  services  of  the  church  on  behalf  of  youth  are 
illuminations  of  the  sacred  text,  an  embodiment  of  the  holy 
ambitions  of  the  young  Christ : 

"  When  I  was  yet  a  child  no  childish  play 
To  me  was  pleasing  ;  all  my  mind  was  set 
Serious  to  learn  and  know,  and  thence  to  do, 
What  might  be  public  good ;  myself  I  thought 
Bom  to  that  end." 

Jesus  is  still  about  his  Father's  business,  in  his  Father's  house, 
which  is  this  world  where  work  may  be  the  best  worship.  He 
is  still  with  his  people,  erasing  the  scribbled  legends  from  the 
palimpsest  of  his  gospel  and  interpreting  in  social  philanthropies 
the  heart  of  his  message. 

Out  of  the  life  and  teachings  of  Christ  and  his  apostles  have 
grown  the  historic  forces  and  institutions  of  organized  Chris- 
tianity in  the  world's  life.  No  man  understands  the  New  Testa- 
ment unless  he  has  read  the  commcntarv  which  the  holy  charity 
of  the  church  has  written  on  the  pages  of  historv.  It  is  useless 
to  attempt  to  dissect  the  service  rendered  by  the  church  from 
other  elements.  The  task  is  as  impossible  as  to  distinguish  the 
waters  of  rivers  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  All  good  is  Christian. 
Moonlight  is  reflected  sunlight.  If  more  exact  historical  inves- 
tigation some  day  shows  that  sanctifying  power  touched  the 
ancient  familv  other  than  that  ministered  by  priest  or  j)res- 
byter,  we  shall  not  admit  that  this  purifying  energy  was  not 
due  to  the  immanent  Christ  "  by  whom  he  made  the  worlds." 
Why  should  we  take  gems  from  Christ's  crown  Ijv  refusing  to 
credit  to  the  Logos  the  moral  grandeur  of  stoicism  ?  Unques- 
tionably stoicism  did  much  to  mitigate  the  c\ils  which  degraded 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  CHILDREN  477 

children  at  Rome,  although  it  fell  far  short  of  the  teaching  which 
Jesus  brought.  The  church  itself  is  "not  that  light,"  but  only 
a  lamp  stand,  and  not  always  even  a  trusty  torchbearer. 

Making  all  concessions  to  the  merit  of  stoicism,  and  confess- 
ing all  just  charges  of  ecclesiastical  defect,  we  are  still  justified 
in  asserting  that  the  church  never  quite  forgot  the  manger  of 
Bethlehem.  Even  the  ascetic  monk,  in  his  vision  of  innocence, 
might  take  the  Christ  Child  in  his  arms  while  his  cell  seemed 
flooded  with  golden  rays,  "rich  and  like  a  lily  in  bloom."  We 
must  leave  to  another  article  in  this  number  the  theme  of  artistic 
treatment  of  this  subject.  Yet  there  is  a  vital  bond  between  art 
and  social  service,  for  both  are  aspects  and  expressions  of  the 
same  beliefs,  aspirations,  hopes.  The  same  Spirit  of  Jesus  which 
raised  Raphael  to  the  height  of  the  Sistine  Madonna  also  moved 
Savonarola,  Luther,  St.  Francis,  Fliedner,  Wichern,  C.  L.  Brace, 
Pestalozzi,  Froebel  and  a  host  of  teachers  to  their  social  ministry 
for  childhood.  Spurgeon  challenged  the  skeptical  world  with 
his  ringing  words  :  "The  God  that  answers  by  orphanages,  let 
him  be  God." 

Christianity,  in  the  church  of  the  heroic  ages,  contended 
against  inveterate  evils  of  pagan  custom.  The  conduct  of  that 
decadent  empire  in  respect  to  children  is  revolting  beyond 
description.  Many  of  the  rich,  luxurious,  and  voluptuous  hated 
the  very  thought  of  having  the  care  of  the  young.  The  respon- 
sibilities of  motherhood  were  avoided  in  every  possible  way  and 
women  of  noble  rank  freed  themselves  of  unwelcome  burdens 
by  infanticide  and  without  rebuke.  Even  the  ancient  dread  of 
the  House  Spirit  did  not  restrain  these  evils,  while  both 
premiums  and  penalties  of  the  state  failed  to  correct  the  fatal 
corruption  of  faith  and  manners.  The  rearing  of  offspring  was 
only  too  frequently  left  to  ignorant  and  debased  slaves.  From 
ancient  times  the  father  had  possessed  and  used  the  right  to 
expose  son  or  daughter  to  vultures,  frost,  or  slave-hunters. 

From  the  first  the  church  diffused  in  the  Roman  empire  the 
Hebrew  yearning  for  children,  made  more  tender  by  sweet 
memories  of  the  Divine  Babe,  made  universal  by  the  doctrine 
of  human  brotherhood.     Therefore  bishops  went  about  to  gather 


478  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

up  waifs  and  foundlings  and  gave  to  holy  women  the  care  of 
deformed  and  abandoned  infants.  The  penitential  discipline  did 
not  fail  to  censure  and  punish  members  of  the  church  for  acts 
which  among  their  heathen  neighbors  were  regarded  as  venial 
faults. 

There  is  a  darker  side.  Asceticism,  dee[)ening  poverty, 
invasions  of  rude  barbarians,  darkening  clouds  of  ignorance, 
rank  superstition,  misleading  heresies  of  dualism,  ecclesiastical 
ambition  and  chiliasm  continued  to  corrupt  the  fair  doctrine  of 
Jesus  and  dilute  his  influence.  But  even  then  Christianity 
grafted  its  benign  teaching  upon  the  rude  stock  of  Germanic 
life.  Faith  blossomed  not  only  in  altar  pieces  but  in  hospitals 
and  asylums,  in  schools  and  in  watchful  care  of  tempted  and 
imperiled  vouth. 

The  Renaissance,  turbid  with  defiling  elements,  was  yet  a 
reassertion  of  the  worth,  beauty,  and  joy  of  healthy  life  and 
natural  affection.  On  its  darker  side  it  was  sensual  but  on  the 
better  side  it  affirmed  the  goodness  of  the  Creator  and  of  his 
works.  In  the  Puritan  revolt  under  Savonarola  we  see  glimj^ses 
of  white-robed  boys  moving  in  procession  to  protest  against  the 
pagan  e.xcesses  of  the  period. 

The  Reformation  gave  to  the  modern  world  the  pastor's 
family.  This  type  of  family  is  not  without  its  pathetic  and  even 
ridiculous  side.  Much  cheap  sarcasm,  not  altogether  without 
shrewd  reason,  has  assailed  it.  Society  is  only  too  [)rone  to  make 
the  parson  extremely  poor  and  then  to  scold  him  because  his 
numerous  children  suffer.  The  parson  has  sometimes  been  in 
fault.  But  impartial  judgment  shows  another  side.  The  pastor's 
house  in  (jermanw  .Switzerland,  Holland,  England  antl  New 
England  has  i:)een  the  home  of  simple  culture,  of  "j)lain  living 
and  high  thinking."  Take  out  of  the  literature  and  social  life  of 
those  nations  the  products,  direct  and  indirect,  of  manse  and  par- 
sonage, and  the  world's  spiritual  riches  would  suffer  incalculably. 

The  free  common  schools,  secular  and  "godless"  as  some 
assert,  are  clearly  a  product  of  Christian  influences.  Thev  are 
in  direct  and  historic  line  with  the  church  schools  of  the  bishops 
of  early  days,  o  t   tiie   monastic   schools  of  tlu-    Middle  Ages,  of 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  CHILDREN  479 

the  institutions  patronized  by  Charlemagne,  of  those  created  by 
Luther  and  of  the  prophetic  establishments  of  our  New  England 
fathers.       If   our    American    secular    schools   have    little    direct 
religious  teaching,  they  are  at  least  conducted  by   persons  who 
embody,  in  the  main,  Christian  ideals  of  character  and  conduct. 
Another  institution,  the  Sunday  school,  has  been  developed  in 
America  as   nowhere   else,  just  because   the   church   could  not 
depend  on  the  state   for  religious  teaching.      Never  before  was 
seen  such  a  magnificent  army  of  unpaid  voluntary  instructors, 
giving  their  lives  to  the  holiest  task   of  humanity.     State-sup- 
ported   schools,    ruled    by    political   parties,   might   give    better 
intellectual    instruction,    but    could     never     supply    the     moral 
enthusiasm  and    inventive   spirit  of   these  most  free   schools  of 
piety  and  patriotism.    Nothing  but  united  effort  of  all  Christians 
is  wanted  to  bring  Christian  teaching  within  the  reach  of  every 

child. 

Christian  faith  and  hope  sustain  the  patience  which  is 
required  for  the  rearing  of  children.  There  must  be  a  high 
estimate  of  the  possibilities  of  the  young  immortals,  new  to 
earth  and  sky.  Such  faith  inspired  the  words  of  Ascham : 
"Some  men,  friendly  enough  of  nature,  but  of  small  judgment 
in  learninge,  do  thinke,  I  take  to  moch  paines,  and  spend  to 
moch  time,  in  settinge  forth  these  childrens  affaires.  But  those 
good  men  were  never  brought  up  in  Socrates  Schole,  who  saith 
plainlie,  that  no  man  goeth  about  a  more  godlie  purpose,  than  he 
that  is  mindfuU  of  the  good  bringing  up,  both  of  hys  owne,  and 

other  mens  children In   writing   this  booke,  I  have  had 

earnest  respecte  to  three  speciall  pointes,  trothe  of  Religion, 
honestie  in  living,  right  order  in  learninge.  In  which  three  waies, 
I  praie  God,  my  poore  children  may  diligently  waulke  ;  for  whose 
sake,  as  nature  would,  and  reason  required,  or  necessitie  also 
somewhat  compelled,  I  was  the  willinger  to  take  these  paines." 
And  what  ill-paid  teacher  has  not  enjoyed  the  revenge  of  this 
noble  resentment :  "And  it  is  pitie,  that  commonlie,  more  care  is 
had  to  finde  out  a  cunninge  man  for  their  horse,  than  a  cunninge 
man  for  their  children.  ...  God  that  sitteth  in  heaven  laugheth 
their    choice    to'  skorne,    and    rewardeth    their    liberalitie  as  it 


480  THE  BIBLICAL   WORLD 

should  :  for  he  suffereth  thcin  to  have  tame  and  well  ordered 
horse,  but  wilde  and  unfortunate  children  :  and  therefore  in  the 
ende  thev  finde  more  pleasure  in  their  horse  than  comforte  in 
their  children." 

The  expansion  of  Christian  ideas  must  lead  to  care  for  the 
superior  education  of  girls.  The  stage  of  culture  reached  by  a 
people  is  measured  by  their  treatment  of  women  and  girls.  We 
may  admit  that  the  particular  methods  of  co-education  are  under 
trial,  and  that  the  experiment  is  not  vet  wide  enough  for  con- 
fident generalizations.  But  co-education  docs  at  least  signify 
that  every  girl  shall  have  an  equal  0})portunity  w'ith  her  brother 
to  find  out  her  powers.  The  path  to  the  sunny  heights  of  uni- 
versity life  shall  be  opened  to  her  and  she  shall  have  suf- 
ficient discipline  and  knowledge  to  enable  her  to  make  a  choice 
among  all  good  ways,  and  not  be  held  to  a  narrow  field  of 
selection. 

There  is  a  sense  in  which  the  church  owes  a  debt  to  chil- 
dren. How  could  we  attach  any  meaning  to  the  Lord's  prayer 
to  "Our  Father"  if  we-had  not  had  a  race  training  in  filial 
piety  ?  The  hour  of  regeneration  often  comes  to  a  selfish  and 
worldly  man  with  the  birth  of  his  first  child.  It  was  so  with 
Pestalozzi.  In  his  wife's  diary  he  wrote:  "Send  me  thy  spirit 
from  on  high.  Give  me  now  new  strength,  create  in  me  a  new 
heart,  fresh  zeal.  Oh,  my  son,  my  son!  Horrible  thought!  If 
I  were  to  fail  in  my  duty  to  thee,  if  I  were  to  lead  thee  astray 
from  thy  proper  path,  thou  mightest  some  day  before  the  Judge 
be  the  accuser  of  thy  father,  of  him  whose  duty  it  was  to  lead 
thee  aright."  A  little  child,  walking  in  meditation  by  her  father 
on  a  starry  evening  after  a  beautiful  Sabbath,  released  him  from 
life  weariness  and  brought  his  mind  to  God  by  saying:  "Papa, 
don't  you  think  the  angels  were  in  the  world  today  ?"  Words- 
worth tells  us  how  the  bow  keeping  company  with  the  slic])hcrd 
father,  led  him    ui)war(l  : 

"  From  the  boy  there  came 
Feehiigs  and  emanations — tilings  which  were 
Light  to  tlic  sun  and  music  to  the  wind  ; 
And  that  tlic  old  man's  heart  seemed  horn  again." 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  CHILDREN  481 

And   Mrs.   Browning    notes    the    same     influence    of    children 
hanging  on  the  mother's  neck  and  making  her  a  better   woman  : 

"  Ah  me,  the  vines 
That  bear  such  fruit  are  proud  to  stoop  with  it ; 
The  palm  stands  upright  in  a  realm  of  sand." 

And  if  we  owe  children  a  debt  we  owe  them  a  duty.  The 
work  of  the  church  for  neglected  childhood  is  not  yet  done  ; 
and  as  the  great  factory  system  invades  our  agricultural  West 
one  state  after  another  will  be  required  to  protect  infancy  from 
greed  and  ignorance  and  forgetfulness.  Even  now  we  may,  if 
we  have  sensitive  spirits,  hear  the  "  cry  of  the  children"  of  the 
huge  shops.  Read  the  reports  of  factory  inspectors  in  almost 
any  state,  but  especially  where  public  attention  has  not  been 
aroused,  and  listen  to  the  cry  : 

"  'Grief  has  made  us  unbelieving, — 

We  look  up  for  God,  but  tears  have  made  us  blind.' 
Do  you  hear  the  children  weeping  and  disproving, 
O  my  brothers,  what  ye  preach  ? 
For  God's  possible  is  taught  by  his  world's  loving  — 
And  the  children  doubt  of  each." 

"How  long,  O  cruel  nation. 
Will  you  stand,  to  move  the  world,  on  a  child's  heart?" 

We  are  coming  to  recognize  the  voice  of  Christ  in  this 
appeal.  We  are  coming  to  what  noble  Oscar  McCuUoch  loved 
to  call  the  "Church  of  the  Divine  Fragments,"  whose  duty  it  is 
to  gather  up  all  the  fragments  that  nothing  be  lost.  Pedagog- 
ical science  and  art  are  now  engaged  in  developing  special 
methods  for  bringing  backward  and  feeble-minded  children  to 
the  full  stature  of  which  they  are  capable.  When  we  have  pro- 
vided adequately  for  the  imbecile  we  have  reached  the  last 
stratum  of  human  need,  but  we  are  far  from  attaining  that 
goal. 

If  our  task  is  not  yet  done,  neither  is  the  power  latent  in 
Christianity  exhausted.  There  is  the  power  of  the  endless  life. 
The  church  is  constantly  creating  higher  ideals  of  duty,  ever 
judging  itself  by  worthier  standards,  ever  more  remorseful  for 
neglect,   ever  more   deeply    moved   by   the  story  of  the  Divine 


482  THE  BIBLICAL    WORLD 

Child.  If  the  church  grows  cold  the  Scripture  reading  in  public 
worship  or  family  devotions  kindles  afresh  the  sacred  flame. 
And  if  the  church  had  never  done  anything  but  give  Christmas, 
with  its  associations,  to  the  world,  it  would  have  deserved  well 
of  philanthropy.  The  genius  of  Dickens  has  illustrated  the 
power  of  that  holiday  to  awaken  affection  and  renew  life  with 
even  a  selfish  man.  By  reason  of  Christian  motives  kinder- 
gartens are  multiplied,  not  merely  to  reform  the  hardened 
offender,  but  rather  to  anticipate  the  inroads  of  evil  and  start 
the  youth  aright  at  the  parting  of  the  ways.  The  church  is 
realizing  the  truth  of  biology,  and  is  assimilating  the  revelations 
of  exact  science  with  the  spiritual  impulses  of  charity  and  faith. 
The  frequent  use  of  the  words  heredity  and  environment  in 
religious  appeals  is  witness  to  this  process.  Tennyson,  the  great 
Christian  poet,  has  taught  us  how  children,  stolen  in   infancy  by 

a  she-wolf, 

"  Housed 
In  her  foul  den,  there  at  their  meat  would  growl, 
And  mock  their  foster  mother  on  four  feet, 
Till,  straightened,  they  grew  up  wolf-like  men, 
Worse  than  wolves." 

A  long  space  stretches  between  the  Nazareth  Boy  and  the  social 
revolutions  of  the  twentieth  century.  But  at  the  heart  of  all  the 
fermenting  energy  of  goodness  is  the  truth  of  the  holy  child- 
hood of  Jesus.  The  reverent  study  of  the  advent,  accompanied 
by  carols  and  anthems,  starts  millions  of  generous  youth  in  an 
upward  direction,  and  wings  their  ambitions  with  hoj)e,  and  faith, 
and  love.  The  deathless  Book  is  a  fountain  of  eternal  life.  The 
study  of  the  life  of  Christ  is  the  well  of  noblest  social  forces. 
The  sciences  which  deal  with  exjilanation  could  not  exist  in 
their  present  form  if  creative  Christianity  had  not   furnished  the 

material. 

"The  best  is  yet  to  be, 
The  last  of  life,  for  which  the  first  was  made. 
Our  times  are  in  His  hand    - 
Who  saith,  'A  whole  1  planned, 
Youth  shows  but  half  ;  trust  God,  sec  all,  nor  be  afraid.'  " 


■■  "^' 'i^fSia 


1    1012  01020  3752 


